


Come Together

by Winter_S_Jameson



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers - Journal 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7825750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_S_Jameson/pseuds/Winter_S_Jameson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately after Bill Cipher's defeat during Weirdmageddon, the ten members of the Zodiac find themselves swept up in chaos bubbles and forced through the dimensional barrier. Dispersed throughout the multiverse, Ford - as the only one of them with experience on the other side - is determined to find them all and harness their connection to the mystical energies of the prophecy to get them all home. He can only hope it will be in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

He hadn’t been conscious when his body had fallen from the sky, or when the chaos bubble that had engulfed him when he first rose into the air finally popped and caused the pinprick he’d traveled through to wink out of existence. He hadn’t felt the buffeting of the winds from the mass of dust devils his arrival had brought into being. He hadn’t been aware of the light and heat from the pair of suns in the sky beating down on him as the afternoon wore on into evening. And he hadn’t realized when the starlight began its attempt to soothe the new cuts and bruises.

What Stanford Filbrick Pines did know when the fluttering of his bangs across his forehead finally inspired him to open his eyes was that he was no longer in Gravity Falls. He was no longer home. In fact, the air around him felt eerily familiar – and not in a good way.

“Stan?” he called in a low voice, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position as he fought down an irrational surge of panic. “Dipper? Mabel?” He needed to know if his family was nearby, but he didn’t want to draw the attention of any creature that might be hiding just out of sight.

Had returning through the portal, living these past few weeks in Gravity Falls, defeating Bill… all been a grand illusion? A fanciful fever dream brought about by an infected wound caused by a rabid fanged lightning sloth from dimension 23c? A fantasy he built for himself while being tortured by angry storm walkers from dimension 84q-9?

Ford shook his head, bringing a bare six-fingered hand up to run wearily through his thick greying hair. No, he was remembering correctly. His brother had actually succeeded in bringing him home. He really had met – and become incredibly fond of – the niece and nephew he hadn’t known he had. And Stanley had really sacrificed himself to the power of the memory erasing gun to finally eliminate Bill Cipher once and for all; he himself had been forced to pull the trigger. If nothing else, the fact that he was wearing Stan’s suit and glasses instead of his own red sweater and trench coat confirmed the old-fashioned twin swap that led to Bill making his deal with the younger twin when he thought it was Ford.

It was after Ford had dropped the memory gun and struggled to control his emotions as he stared helplessly at his empty brother kneeling on the stone floor in front of him, Stan’s head tilted back as far as it would go, that evidence of Bill’s defeat began to make itself known. The six other members of the Zodiac Wheel changed back to their human forms from the tapestries Bill had transformed them into, and a great wind started to swirl and whip around gathering everything Bill had touched and transformed. The huge black bricks of the fearamid broke away from each other and streamed toward the tear in the dimensional fabric in the sky. The creatures Bill had brought with him from the Nightmare Realm joined the unnatural materials in their exit. And surprisingly, everyone who was in Bill’s headquarters also began to float into the air. The ten of them hovered somewhere near the halfway point between the ground and the jagged tear only to be swallowed up by individual chaos bubbles. Then the pressure grew greater and greater, finally knocking him out.

And he woke up here.

Ford looked around warily, trying to place whatever dimension he’d ended up in for a long moment before dismissing the thought as presently irrelevant. The grey-haired man pushed himself to his feet… and froze. There, about ten feet to his right, lay the memory gun. It would likely prove useful here, but his last memory of using it…

He squeezed his eyes shut as a new thought suddenly occurred to him. If Stanley had also been swept away to another dimension – and Ford had no reason to believe otherwise – he was totally helpless, a walking blank slate with no memories of his own survival skills to aid him in what was most likely a violent place. Stan’s chances of survival were slim to say the least.

And what about the children? Dipper and Mabel – and perhaps Wendy as well – had good instincts and a limited amount of true experience with some of the kinds of things they could run into in some of these dimensions. But what of the others? The llama? The stitched heart? The eye star? What experience did they have? Although Soos might be all right; Ford had a feeling the Mystery Shack handyman was deeper than the somewhat childlike exterior suggested.

And then there was Fiddleford. Dear heavens, hadn’t the man suffered enough because of Ford? Now he had been thrown into a random dimension, all alone and expected to fend for himself while being totally surrounded by hostility. Just a glimpse at another dimension had driven his former research partner to create a device that could wipe a memory clean. What would this do to him?

Ford stiffened and clenched his jaw, forcing the negative thoughts from his mind. Stan and the kids had saved Gravity Falls and the rest of his home dimension from Bill and his weirdness; it was his turn to return the favor. He would find a way to track his family and friends. He would find a way to travel safely between dimensions, something safer and less random than he’d put himself through the past thirty years. And he would gather them all, and they would find a way home together.

There were no other options.

Absolutely none.

* * * * * * * *

Two days and eight hours later (he insisted on continuing to track Earth time according to the watch he still had in his possession), Ford had found a rough and tumble settlement and started to put together the collection of materials he’d need to create an interdimensional tracking device that could find his family and friends. He’d returned to clothing in the shades of black and grey he’d taken to wearing the last few years before Stan had pulled him home, Stan’s own clothes safely tucked away in a large sack he wore slung across his back. And he had a new set of weapons thanks to an overzealous mercenary who thought Ford might be worth some money to the right buyer, although he hadn’t actually recognized him. It had been simple enough to use the bigger man’s overconfidence and higher center of gravity against him, and no one who saw what had happened cared enough to alert the authorities to the altercation. A couple even thanked Ford for getting rid of the annoying big man. He’d apparently been trying to terrorize some of the merchants into giving up protection money.

Ford couldn’t stop the satisfied smirk that twitched upward at the knowledge. He’d always hated bullies.

Now he sat in a secluded cave a quarter of a day’s walk from the town surrounded by pieces of metal, springs, gauges, wires, a couple of power sources, and other random parts. He also had some tools he’d be able to use to put everything together when it was ready. But he also had some calculating to do. Exactly how was he going to be able to put together a device that was portable yet capable of producing a scan powerful enough to bridge barriers between dimensions? And he also needed to be able to create a stable passageway through those same barriers, one that led to a specific location instead of the multiple random choices the machine he’d made during his last stay on the other side of the portal had allowed.

Ford had taken the easy way out last time, he realized. When he first built it, he’d been in a hurry, desperate to travel the dimensions in an attempt to find what he needed to destroy Bill, and ultimately his way home. He had narrowed the number of possibilities each time he updated it, of course, but he had never taken the time to stop and really look at his invention. He hadn’t wanted to accept that he might have to scrap what he had and start over to find a real solution. His hubris only allowed him to believe that it would take just a few more adjustments, another tweak here or there, before he opened his own portal from _this_ side and walked triumphantly home. He’d show Bill that he was a true genius of his own accord, one that didn’t need a demon to do great things. He’d make sure Stan couldn’t screw everything up by activating the portal he’d left behind and playing right into Cipher’s hands.

He flinched at the thought. Stan had spent thirty years working on a device that he had no familiarity with, the science of which _Ford_ had needed a demon to work him though before coming to an understanding – and _he made it work_. His brother hadn’t even had a complete set of notes to work from for most of that time; he’d only had the first journal with its third of the information and diagram.

There had been no way for him to know about the secret notes in invisible ink. It had only been a fluke of Mabel and Dipper having a black light in their room at the right time that _any_ of them had discovered that secret. And even when Stan was aware of the danger he chose to disregard it. All for him. All to bring back the brother that used his knowledge of his twin’s family loyalty to get him to come without thinking of what it would really mean to him. The brother that had belittled and shunned him over an accidental slight that hadn’t even ended up preventing Ford from getting the degrees and accolades he’d dreamed of. The same brother that had put his research and self-pity and self-serving martyrdom ahead of his family, even going so far as to brand Stan’s shoulder, unintentional as that action was.

Ford shook his head to clear away the negativity. Feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to help anybody. He was the only one of the ten of them that had experience in the huge number of dimensions beyond their own; he had to focus. Of course, when he really thought about it, he realized he had to trust the others to make it on their own until they could be brought back together. Some of them might even find their own ways to dimension jump, find their way to him. Fiddleford certainly had the intelligence and knowledge necessary; Dipper might even think of something creative and useful, young as he was. He had to think of them as a team, even if it was as a team that desperately needed to be reunited.

Ford stopped and sat up ramrod straight. The ten people that were now spread across the dimensions _were_ a team. They were all central to a prophecy that when brought together could attract enough mystical energy to defeat a Bill Cipher who had grown infinitely powerful with his new physical form. Perhaps it had been their energy upon Bill’s defeat that had been the final thing needed for the portal to seal completely when the otherworldly creatures were gone. It would explain why they’d been suspended in the air so close to the dimensional tear when no one else from town had been drawn toward the vortex. He was assuming the portal was sealed, of course. He couldn’t bear to think otherwise.

An idea started to take root and grow at the realization. Maybe the Zodiac’s energy could be used as a power source to open a more natural gate back to their own dimension, one that would act more like pushing aside a pair of curtains than tearing a jagged hole through the fabric of time and space with a knife. There was most likely a common frequency or wavelength they all shared that would resonate with their home. Ford could probably use that commonality as a way to both track his fellows and scan for where they’d come from. It was definitely worth a try.

A little over a day later, Ford was ready. Well, as ready as he could be at any rate. He’d scanned his own energy signature and entered all the minute details into his latest invention. It would search the multiverse for matches and display the most relevant results, and from there Ford could determine the best course of action to take. The scanner was linked to the dimensional portal creator – the DPC for short – which would open a portal to whichever dimension was appropriate. He was actually quite proud of the pair of devices.

He stood in the clearing outside of the cave. All of his belongings had been packed, most of them in the sack slung across his back with the rest tucked away in various pockets of his trench coat. He did one last check of the two new machines, and, satisfied, began the process. The scan went quickly, more quickly than expected, leading to a list of results and a choice made. A portal was open, and the readings suggested it was as stable as could be hoped for.

With a deep, calming breath, Ford stepped through.


	2. Chapter 1

The fog was a surprise. Ford was lucky to be able to see a foot or so in front of him. It was concerning, but what really had him worried was a certain scent in the air. He knew he remembered it, and if he was right it could mean serious trouble for whichever member of the Zodiac had landed here. The Sarliss, the lizard people that were the dominant sentient species of this dimension, had harsh societal rules that an outsider would have a difficult time weaving their way through to a place of understanding. And if understanding couldn’t be found, the end results could be deadly.

Ford shook his head and refocused on the task at hand. He was sure his scanner wouldn’t have detected a dead body, so whoever was here was alive. He just had to find them.

The older scientist warily moved forward, all of his senses on alert as he tried to get his bearings. While he had definitely visited this dimension before – a few times before, actually – things very well could have changed since then. He was hoping it hadn’t, however. It would make things a lot easier.

It wasn’t long before a barely audible hissing breath had Ford stopping in his tracks, and in the next moment he realized there were presences on three sides of him, leaving only the way he had come as an escape route. He couldn’t take it, he knew. The Sarliss would see it as a sign of cowardice, of weakness. He would get no information and accomplish nothing that way.

“I know you’re there,” Ford said aggressively, tensing in preparation for multiple kinds of responses. “You may as well show yourselves.”

“You hasss familiar taste,” a deep, raspy voice said warily, followed by a lean figure appearing directly in front of the waiting man out of the fog bank as it mysteriously retreated a few feet. Its skin was covered in dry greyish-green scales, the nostrils mere slits at the end of its slightly elongated snout. There didn’t appear to be an ounce of fat on the humanoid; its musculature was taut and wiry, promising a deceptive strength to those who would underestimate it. The four-clawed hands reflexively opened and closed like an arcade crane game. Above all there was an intelligence in the beady black eyes that watched Ford so closely, periodically being flashed over by one of a pair of eyelids, one blinking vertically, the other horizontally.

“I should, Hazliss. You know me from time past.” Ford held himself steady under the gazes of the other Sarliss that now emerged from the fog, never taking his eyes from the leader in front of him.

Hazliss silently blinked as he watched the human man. “I remember. But it hasss been much time. Thingsss may have changed. _You_ may have changed.” There were growls and hisses from the semi-circle of creatures.

Ford gave a small nod of acknowledgment along with a small smile. “That is so. I may have changed. But you might have as well.”

Hazliss drew himself to his full height and narrowed his eyes, his tongue darting out a number of times before he responded in a tense tone. “Do you quessstion my honor? My integrity?”

“No more than you question mine,” Ford replied calmly, inwardly knowing he was now walking a fine line. “But time has passed for both of us, time spent without knowledge of the other.”

“We must know one another again, or there will be blood rending.” The lizard man’s tone was as cold as his reptilian ancestry would suggest.

Ford’s expression hardened as he thought hard. He was aware of what blood rending would mean; the tribe would close in and tear him to pieces, as the term suggested. But to know one another would also mean a trial between Hazliss and himself, one that could still end up deadly even if only accidentally if things went wrong. He’d been hoping that it hadn’t been too long since his last visit, that he could be recognized and welcomed as an ally as he had before. But more time had passed than he realized. And with his fellow Zodiac to find, he had no real choice.

“Then the Struggle of Knowing must take place,” Ford said at the bottom of his range, conveying the seriousness of what he had declared.

Hazliss nodded and spread his arms wide, the rest of the tribe spreading out at the gesture. The fog bank spread out with them. “The Ssstruggle of Knowledge will begin.”

Ford pulled off his gloves and tucked them into a pocket of his jacket as he recalled what he could of the ritual, the ceremonial conflict meant to show that each was capable of attack and defense, of recognizing the skill of another, of delivering death and mercy. This was not going to be quick. He could only hope that the person he was here to find was somewhere safe – and hopefully not far away. He sincerely doubted he would have the energy to do much more than collect his companion and find a place out of the weather to rest once this was done.

They started with each of them letting loose a primal scream that echoed from the surrounding rocks and foliage. Then the two men circled one another for three circuits around the edge of the clearing, then stopped and drew themselves up to their full heights. Two pounds of right fists on chests, and the circling began again. Three more circuits, two more pounds on chests… and the real fight began.

* * * * * * * *

A small figure poked its head out between the leaves of the canopy overhead, brows furrowed as it tried to figure out where the horrible hissing voices were coming from. Memories were there from days before of an attempt to ask for help, of standing up to insults, even of physically pushing back when one of those lizard guys tried to use his height to intimidate. Then there was running, the hissing turning into constant threats of violence if the hunt was successful, dodging amongst the trees and scrambling to feet after falling. Closer, closer, they always seemed to get closer… Up became the only chance to get away.

It worked.

But now the trees with their leaves and branches were as much a prison as a haven. The lizard men still walked the woods, so the canopy was safety; the ground wasn’t an option until they went on their way. Not that a destination was clear whether up or down, but it would feel better to have the freedom to explore all the options available.

More hissing echoed up. They had found someone else, were confronting another like had happened before. Was it one of their own who broke some rule or another? Had another human found his or her way here and stumbled unknowingly upon the great big scaly creatures? Would the sounds of another chase begin? And if it did, would the option of up be able to be provided in time?

A soft sigh set the nearby leaves to quivering. The identity of this latest victim should be known so they would be recognized during the chase later, if things came to that. Fortunately, the lizard men should be focused on the new fight instead of the old one, so that going to the ground to see things more clearly from outside of their gathering would be possible if done quietly enough. The hissing sounds were tracked then, and the figure made its way toward the noise’s epicenter.

The lizard men ended up being barely visible from the perch in the branches, although the fog that tended to follow them kept whoever they were watching from being seen at all. They were standing in an incomplete circle; it was a surprise to see that whoever was in the middle wasn’t completely surrounded, that they’d left a section open for escape. A trap, maybe? Or they liked chasing people so much they increased the odds of someone running away and starting a hunt? Nothing could be certain. They would need to be watched.

A tree with a large trunk at the edge of the fog that could be swiftly hidden behind was picked as the site for observing the confrontation already in progress. Two loud roars had ripped through the air just as the ground had been reached, stopping the figure in its tracks for a moment, but progress was quickly resumed. Now below the fog bank, the pair of combatants could be made out in flashes and glimpses, the surrounding lizard men keeping the sight lines cluttered. The new opponent had a different style of dress than the mottled grey tunics and loose pants the creatures wore. A long jacket could be seen flaring out during a spin, and thick boots crunched the carpet of fallen flora that covered the ground like in any normal forest back home. Was it possible the jacket-wearing figure would be one to make a connection with?

And then the rhythm changed inside the circle. The opponents had paused, seemed to be waiting for something. Tension rose; the shoulders of the lizard men were nearly quivering in anticipation. Things would be coming to a climax soon, it was certain. Now if only it could be seen…

* * * * * * * *

The ritual combat went on for longer than Ford had been expecting, causing him to surprise himself with his physical endurance. Both participants seemed a bit winded; Ford hoped that meant he could get in a more significant blow than he’d been able to land up to that point. Of course, Hazliss was wary of getting in range of those six-fingered fists. A solid right hook had been what had ended their first Struggle of Knowledge.

The scientist’s eyes narrowed when he saw Hazliss pull out what looked like a slightly larger than normal sized hand crossbow from the folds of his cloak. Another pocket brought forth an oilcloth-wrapped, fist-sized bundle that ended up proving to be a rotting foressa fruit, a somewhat oblong cross between an orange and a mango in looks that Ford remembered this tribe used to mark potential prey – or challengers who might be forced to run. The foressa was a rather fragrant fruit under normal circumstances, but when it began to rot that trait was amplified tenfold. With the Sarliss sense of smell and taste – practically the same thing with them – so acutely sensitive, it made it next to impossible for anyone or anything struck in that way to escape detection.

Did Hazliss expect Ford to run? Was he planning a trick that would obscure sight, leaving him with the advantage of being able to track his opponent much more easily? Whatever the tribe leader’s intent, Ford knew he couldn’t allow himself to be hit by the fruit.

The two of them began to circle one another once again as Hazliss loaded the fruit into the cradle of his weapon. They watched the other’s movements even more closely than before, waiting for that slight twitch or shift of weight that could reveal an opening for an attack. It had to come soon; both combatants’ bodies were a fascinating dichotomy of tension and relaxation waiting to be released.

And then Ford saw the minute movement he needed to act. Instinctually he projected a dive to the right then completed the action to the left, seamlessly rolling into a somersault and back to his feet. He had heard the twang of the crossbow as he went; the sound had him re-tracking the lizard man as soon as he was again upright.

From the moment he moved and Hazliss fired, everything seemed to happen incredibly distinctly even as it all overlapped in a bundle of sensations. Ford saw Hazliss stiffen, his gaze locking in the direction his shot had traveled. The tribesmen shifted aside to avoid the aromatic missile and created a narrow passage that broke the confines of the surrounding almost-circle. A cry of pain rang out from beyond the lizard men. The sound of a body impacting something solid and then the earth immediately followed.

Ford’s blood ran ice cold. It was a child’s cry, a familiar cry, one that made a different kind of instinct kick in and spur Ford to move as quickly as possible to the source of the sound. No one tried to stop him.

“No, it can’t be,” Ford whispered at the sight that awaited him. His breath caught at the small figure lying prone in front of a huge tree half-hidden in the fog. A long braid of brown hair led away from the motionless form to lie amidst the dirt and plant detritus, the dull earth tones in stark contrast to the red sweater and light purple skirt the girl wore. And while her face was turned away from him, he didn’t need to see it to confirm what he’d known from the start.

“Mabel,” Ford barely breathed as he collapsed to his knees beside her head. He reached out, his hand shaking slightly, to touch the pulse point at her throat, so very scared of the truth but needing to know it. In the next moment, what air was in his lungs rushed out in a strangled cross between a laugh and a sob. There was a pulse, a strong one. And now that he knew that, he could see her chest expanding and contracting with her steady breathing. He ran an even shakier left hand through thick hair damp with sweat from his exertions.

“The little one, it livesss?” Hazliss asked hesitantly in a quiet tone as he came up behind Ford.

“Mabel is alive, yes,” Ford replied wearily, not turning away from his great-niece for a moment, although he recognized the regret he heard in the tribe leader’s voice.

There were a number of gentle, relieved hisses at the statement. Hazliss look another step closer. “You hasss knowledge of the little one?” he asked even more quietly.

Ford took a deep breath and released it, before starting to softly examine Mabel for injuries. “Yes,” he said simply. “She’s my niece.”

Hazliss frowned in confusion. “What isss niece?”

“Um, my blood,” Ford said after a moment of consideration. “Mabel is of my blood. Family.”

“Your blood,” Hazliss repeated with a hint of horror. More hissing and whispered words tinged with the same emotion came from the surrounding tribesmen. Their leader then stood silently and watched the kneeling man begin to reach the end of his examination.

Ford couldn’t help but flinch when Mabel unconsciously did as he touched the back of her head where she must have impacted the tree before falling to the ground. It appeared to be the only real injury she’d sustained, thankfully, but it was still a concussion – and he couldn’t be sure how serious it was, especially with her lengthy lack of consciousness. A slight shift of his hand made him gasp and his concern increase dramatically. He could feel sticky dampness.

The new development made him quite relieved he’d put together an advanced first-aid kit when he’d picked up the rest of his supplies.

Ford’s right hand reached into the inner pocket of his trench coat where he’d stashed the kit as he brought his left hand away from Mabel’s injury and closer to his own body, knowing he was going to have to clean it before starting treatment. His jaw clenched when he saw the blood staining his fingertips; a new pain blossomed in his heart at the sight. He resolved to work with precision and speed, for he knew he needed to see Mabel’s vivacious energy back in action sooner rather than later. He needed to see her grin widely and hear her bright laughter. It was the only thing that was going to lessen the horror of the current moment.

“Blood of your blood,” Hazliss ground out with a different kind of pain when he saw the fluid on Ford’s hand. “I hasss drawn blood of your blood, and it isss beyond the Ssstruggle of Knowledge. I mussst repay blood and pain I hasss caused.”

“It wasn’t your intention, Hazliss,” Ford told him wearily, taking out a handkerchief from another pocket and wiping his left hand clean. He should have seen this reaction coming, but he really wasn’t thinking all that clearly outside of what needed to be done for Mabel.

“But it isss done,” Hazliss refuted firmly. The other tribesmen remained strictly silent.

Ford nodded as he undid the thick braid the girl had her hair in, still not sparing the lizard man much more than quick glances over his shoulder. “True. But I know this wouldn’t have happened had you known Mabel was here. I don’t blame you for what was an accident.”

Hazliss released a sharp hiss of agony. “The little one of your blood doesss not wake.”

“She will.” Ford’s tone was of desperate certainty. She _had_ to wake up eventually. He couldn’t lose her so soon after finding her, both back home and here. Had it truly only been just over a month since Stan had told him he had a niece and nephew, and Mabel shook his hand with such an open expression of awe? A six-fingered handshake was a full finger friendlier he believed she had said at the time. Her immediate acceptance of his abnormality had made it so easy to like her and let her into his heart. That heart would break without her.

“But she doesss not.” Hazliss drew in a deep breath and released it. “I will perform the ritual. I will give my blood for your blood. May my sssacrifice be a worthy gift to entice the gods to bring your blood back.” He pulled a thin dagger out from a sheath in his right boot.

“Wait, no!” Ford cried, finally turning to face him and somehow managing to continue to hold the cloth he’d dampened with water from one of his canteens to Mabel’s wound. “Hazliss, you can’t! Your people need you.”

“I hasss drawn blood of your blood,” Hazliss insisted. “It must be ressstored from me; asss I have taken, ssso I must I give.” He placed the sharp blade against the back of his knee.

Ford quickly reached out with his free hand and covered that of the tribe leader. “Stop! You have to wait.” The man blew out a breath as he felt Hazliss obey his command reluctantly. He had to think. Letting Hazliss drain his own blood to make up for Mabel getting injured wasn’t an option, but the lizard man thought it his duty to make up for the dishonorable act – and the damage it caused - he perceived he had performed. It was an accident, Ford knew. No one had known Mabel was there watching; she must have moved into that position after the ritual had begun for everyone to miss her. But how to get Hazliss to understand that there was no malice toward him, no matter what happened?

The slicing of the back of the knee was ritualistic, he knew, a way to restore Hazliss’ honor. So maybe as the “wronged” party, Ford could restore enough of that honor himself. He just had to find the right words.

“The blood of my blood has been spilled, it is true,” Ford began after a deep breath to steady himself. He tightened his grip on Hazliss’ hand at the sight of more despair in the lizard man’s eyes. “But the spilling of your blood will not return Mabel’s. Your death will not make it so no injury has occurred. Only your _life_ can make things better.” He shook his head at the attempt to speak he could see happening. “I want you to live, Hazliss, and I want you to keep every drop of your blood. Your continued friendship and aid is all I require to know your actions were not intended to harm my niece and that your honor is pure.” He paused as the other man seemed to struggle with the concept. “I swear it upon my life and my blood.”

“You are certain,” Hazliss said quietly. Ford nodded. “Then it isss that I must give that which you require for honor to be ssserved.” A small, thin smile turned up the corners of the wide mouth. “I declare you forever friend of the Sssarliss. There will be no more ssstruggles; you have given all knowledge we need.” He gently pulled his knife hand out of Ford’s grip and replaced the weapon in its sheath. “You and your blood will be asss part of our tribe.”

“Thank you,” Ford said simply, relief letting him relax somewhat.

Hazliss gestured toward Mabel. “What can we do to help care for the little one? We would do anything to sssee her back to health.”

Ford turned back around and looked under the cloth he was still holding to the back of Mabel’s head. “What bleeding there is appears to be getting sluggish, so I don’t believe it’s a very deep cut,” he mused. “I should probably still stitch it up, which means I’ll have to clear away the hair immediately around the wound.” He paused in thought for a moment. “Do you have a blanket or some other kind of cloth so I can keep her head out of the dirt?”

Hazliss nodded and gestured to one of the tribesmen that were standing near. The other lizard man left with purpose. “It isss done. We will alssso provide healing herbsss. Ussse what you require and keep the ressst.”

“Thank you again,” Ford said with a grateful smile over his shoulder. He returned his attention to the wound he was about to treat. “I think I can do this with a minimum loss of hair.” His voice trailed off as he reached for the bag on his back. A moment later he had retrieved a straight razor and was carefully shaving a very small patch of hair away from the cut, cleaning off blood and hair between swipes of the blade.

A little while later, a thin blanket had been carefully placed under Mabel, numbing herbs had been used on the patch of skin Ford had shaved bare, and the jagged cut his work had revealed had been stitched and bandaged. Another blanket had been used to cover the girl, as well as a bundle of cloth tucked under her head as a pillow. Ford sat beside her, all of his equipment cleaned up and put away, while the Sarliss stood guard in a wide circle around them.

“I wonder if she’s been here the whole time, or if she somehow found a way between dimensions,” Ford mused quietly, his eyes not leaving Mabel.

“I have no knowledge of her before all of thisss,” Hazliss said.

“If she was here, where was she hiding? And why?”

One of the tribesmen nearest them let out a soft hiss. “I do not know where, but we are why.”

Hazliss looked at the tribesman with surprise. “What do you mean? She wasss not brought before me.”

“We were ssscouting near here when she approached without warning. She wasss challenged, asss isss cussstom, and she ran. We followed, but she hid herssself, we did not know where. Even her tassste was gone. Ssso it wasss that we did not ssspeak of it.”

“Let me see if I understand you,” Ford said slowly, staring at the tribesman as he absently placed a protective hand on Mabel’s arm. “You challenged her, and then you hunted her.”

“It isss our way,” the lizard man said with a touch of confusion.

“Mossslin isss correct, Ssstanford,” Hazliss added, drawing Ford’s attention. “You are aware of our cussstom.” He gave a small smile. “You should be proud, however. Your little one essscaped completely. She fulfilled the challenge and would have been accepted – even without your mercccy.”

Ford sighed. “I know of your custom,” he admitted, “but I didn’t realize it applied to someone so young.” He gave Mabel’s arm a gentle squeeze.

Hazliss’ eyes narrowed as he watched Ford’s face. “It disssturbs you greatly, more than typically.”

Ford took a deep breath and turned his gaze to the girl resting next to him. “We aren’t supposed to be here,” he said at a volume just above a whisper. “I had finally made it home. But then Bill…” His words cut off as a jumbled wave of emotions overcame him in flashes of memories: a devastated Gravity Falls, Dipper and Mabel being threatened, the ragtag members of the Zodiac… himself setting the memory gun and firing it at his brother. It was too much to go into. “When we defeated him, ten of us were unexpectedly forced out of our dimension, apparently each to a separate one. It took me a handful of days to gather the equipment I needed to search for the others.” He glanced at Hazliss over his shoulder. “That means Mabel has been here, so very far from home with no obvious way back, for all that time _alone_. And after being pursued by most likely the first sentient creatures she encountered, she must have been incredibly frightened. Think of that, Hazliss. She was frightened and alone for three or four _days_.” Ford’s eyes fell shut tiredly. “I’m not judging your custom. I just wish Mabel hadn’t had to experience it after everything else she’s been through recently.” He turned his head back around to return to watching over his niece.

“I underssstand,” Hazliss said sympathetically. “Your heart weepsss for the little one you love, even asss you worry for the othersss that you have lossst. It ssspeaks well of you.” Unseen by Ford, he silently dismissed Moslin.

A soft moan and tiny whimper cut off any response Ford might have come up with. Instead, he leaned in a little closer, and was happy to note that Mabel’s eyelids were starting to flutter slightly even as her brow furrowed. “Mabel?” he asked gently. “Mabel, are you with us?”

Her nose scrunched up in reply, but there was nothing further.

Ford smiled. It was enough.

“The little one will wake sssoon?” Hazliss asked.

“Yes, I believe she will,” Ford said, relieved. It was amazing how much weight was lifted off his shoulders at the truth of that statement.

“I will take my brethren back out of sssight,” the tribe leader offered. “I do not wish to frighten the little one upon her waking.” He smiled. “We will keep watch and sssee you are not disssturbed.”

Ford returned the expression gratefully. “Thank you for your kindness, Hazliss. Both of us appreciate it.”

Hazliss gave him a bow of the head. “You are now one of usss,” he said simply, then disappeared into the fog that still surrounded them, if further back.

Ford watched him go, then went back to keeping an eye on Mabel’s progress. He smiled down on her, and reached out to brush a few stray strands of hair away from her face. His expression faded somewhat a moment later when she started to whimper again, this time sounding more distressed. She turned her face further into the makeshift pillow, and her hands clenched and unclenched. She must have gone from unconsciousness to true slumber without him realizing it, and now she was having some kind of bad dream.

“Dipper…” Mabel breathed sadly, causing Ford to draw back the hand on her arm and his expression to morph into one of sympathy. Her frown deepened. “Dipper?” she called a little louder. Her head tossed back and forth and her breathing got faster. “Dipper!” she finally cried with a sob.

“Mabel?” Ford asked gently with concern as he started to reach for her once again.

“G-grunkle Stan?” she called out a bit more quietly, making Ford’s hand freeze in the air. “Grunkle Stan…”

She was calling for Stan. Of course she was calling for Stan. He’d been the twins’ guardian all summer, and considering everything Ford had witnessed the three of them were very close. But the query only highlighted the man’s absence.

Ford brought his hand back to his body as emotions about his brother boiled up to the surface. He’d made himself shove them aside soon after he’d woken up over four days ago and found himself once again in a dimension not his own; he’d known he needed to concentrate on finding a way for himself and the others to get back home. Now he couldn’t help but imagine where Stan was currently. Was he safe? Was he even alive? Where had he ended up?

Another choked sob from Mabel had Ford forcing those emotions to the back of his mind again. His niece needed him, and she needed him calm and able to think and act. The rest could be dealt with… later.

“Dipper,” she called again. Her tone was so sad that Ford found himself resisting the urge to scoop her up and comfort her with a tight embrace. He didn’t think it was best to startle her out of her unpleasant dreams. “Oh, Dipper…”

Mabel sighed once her words had faded away, and her body slumped into motionlessness. Ford quickly double checked the girl to make sure the action hadn’t been medically induced. A tiny shift reassured him, and he leaned back to resume his previous seated position. It seemed she’d simply drifted back into slumber; he guessed that would be the most beneficial for her health.

What Ford couldn’t understand, however, was his own feeling of being hurt. It was ridiculous. Mabel had been scared and injured, and was now working through some of her anxieties through her dreams. She would of course want to reach out for the people that made her feel the safest, yet who she mentioned in her sleep wasn’t necessarily everyone that qualified. She didn’t ask for her parents, for instance.

All the same, Mabel called out for Dipper and for Stan – but not for him. They hadn’t been quite as close, certainly, but he thought there was still enough of a connection that she would think to come to him if she needed help. He’d trusted her with the quest for the unicorn hair; she’d given every indication that she’d appreciated his praise and expression of pride in her when she’d come back successful. She’d called him a hero for inventing the new light bulb for the kitchen – admittedly not as significant an accomplishment as she claimed, but still – and had been impressed by how he handled the federal agents right after he’d returned. Part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that it all hadn’t been enough.

Ford wasn’t able to do much more than release an emotional sigh before Mabel tensed up again. “Grunkle Ford!” she cried, thrashing around again. “Please, Grunkle Ford!” She sobbed for a moment then curled up on her side facing away from her great uncle. “Please… Dipper, Stan, Ford… please…”

Suddenly Mabel screamed and sat bolt upright, still facing away from Ford. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and every muscle was tense and shaking. “No, no, no, no,” she brokenly chanted, shaking her head.

Ford reached out and gripped her right arm gently. “Mabel?” he asked, the volume such that it probably wouldn’t wake her if this was still part of a dream, yet would most likely get her attention if she was actually awake and caught in the last visions of her nightmare.

Mabel spun around as another strangled scream escaped her lips, the action jerking her arm out of the light grip that had held it. She hopped back a few inches, staring at Ford with wide, scared, unseeing eyes for a long moment; the older man was frozen in place in a combination of shock at Mabel’s actions and fear that any movement from him would make her panic worse. And then her breathing suddenly slowed and deepened, her muscles started to relax, and her eyes blinked rapidly.

A second later her breath caught in her throat. “Grunkle Ford!” she cried joyfully.

Ford didn’t have a chance to react to the happy exclamation before he found his arms and lap full of a Mabel that was squeezing him tightly around the neck, her face buried in his shoulder. He brought his own arms up to return the embrace. “I’m here, Mabel. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Mabel murmured after a quiet few moments. She pulled back far enough to be able to see Ford’s face. “I was starting to think I was always going to be alone here. Well, except for the lizard guys.” She tensed slightly and looked around. “Where are the lizard guys, anyway? Shouldn’t we hide or something?”

“We’re perfectly safe, Mabel. I promise. The tribe leader and I have come to an understanding.” Ford gave her a reassuring smile.

“The tribe leader? Wait, does that mean that _you_ were the person I saw fighting in the middle of the circle?” She moved completely off of Ford’s lap and took a closer look at what her uncle was wearing. “It does! That’s the jacket I saw flaring out, and those are the boots!” She met his gaze with a wide-eyed one of her own. “Did you actually beat him up?”

Ford shook his head. “No, I didn’t beat him up. That wasn’t the point, at least not exactly. In any case, the ritual we were participating in was cut short by Hazliss – that’s the tribe leader – accidentally hitting you with a fruit fired from a hand crossbow. It knocked you into the tree.”

Mabel blinked and started rubbing her chest where an orange-colored stain marked the fruit’s impact point. “So that’s what happened,” she said quietly. “Who was he trying to hit?”

“Me.” Ford smiled wryly. “I believe he was merely trying to disrupt my balance to give him an opportunity to come in close and wrestle me down.”

“Then how did he hit me?”

“My feint fooled him into believing I was moving in the opposite direction I intended, and the tribesmen witnesses were quick to get out of the way. Unfortunately, that left you exposed to the shot.” Ford reached behind her and lightly touched the back of her head. “How are you feeling? You took a pretty nasty hit, and it knocked you out for an unsettling amount of time. Is your sight blurry at all?”

Mabel flinched at the touch but managed a smile anyway. “It still hurts a bit, but I’ll be okay. I bet there’s quite a bump back there!”

Ford’s eyebrows rose as he brought back his hand. “Actually, you have quite a cut back there. I needed five stitches to be sure it would heal properly. I’ll need to keep a close eye on it to make sure it doesn’t end up infected.”

Mabel blinked. “A cut? Stitches?” she repeated shakily. A hand quickly went to the back of her head. “Where? It feels like all my hair’s still there.”

“I assure you I was quite careful,” Ford said. “I only shaved off what was absolutely necessary. There is a patch of gauze, of course, and the tape may catch in the surrounding hair, but as you can tell it is quite hidden.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel said with a wide smile. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“I wish I could say that my motives were entirely altruistic,” Ford said with a sigh. “While most of my reasoning was that I didn’t want to ruin your hair, I also had to consider what you would encounter in the near future. An obvious injury, especially a head injury, could mark you as an easy target for those denizens of the various dimensions that look to take advantage of others to forward their own agendas. It’s best to show as little weakness as possible when traveling into the unknown.”

Mabel frowned. “But you said we didn’t have to worry about the lizard guys.”

Ford nodded. “We don’t, but they aren’t the ones who concern me.” He pulled the two devices he’d created out of his coat. “I invented these to be able to find everyone that was forced through the dimensional fabric by the chaos bubbles as Bill’s rift closed, and to travel between dimensions to recover them. I don’t know what the dimensions will be like where they are, so we’ll have to take all precautions.”

Mabel’s frown lessened and she began to chew on the inside of her cheek. “So everyone got sent to their own dimension?” Ford nodded again. “And you came to get me first.”

“Yes, but to be totally honest I had no idea who I would find here. Your signal was the nearest to mine, and thus the easiest to reach.” Ford smiled. “Now that I have empirical evidence my machines work, and do so just as I intended, we can go on and gather the others.” A thought occurred to him and he picked up the scanner. “Actually, I should program your exact energy signature so that I can continue to narrow down the commonalities.”

“Um, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asked as the scientist activated the device. “Are we going to go right away?”

“We should go soon,” Ford answered as the scan completed and he looked over the results. “After we organize supplies, perhaps.”

Mabel took a deep breath and released it, her arms crossing gently over her stomach. “Do we _have_ to go right away? My stomach’s feeling a little weird, and I’m a bit dizzy. Is there any way I can at least take a nap first?”

The admission drew Ford’s mental calculations up short. He looked up from the scanner with a sympathetic gaze. “I apologize, Mabel. I should have thought of your recovery. Of course we can wait until you’re feeling better before we continue on.” He paused to think for a moment. “Actually, we’ll stay here overnight and travel in the morning. That will give me time to be sure of my new calculations and collect any additional supplies we may require. As well, we’ll both be more certain of your health. A concussion such as you’ve suffered is not a thing to take lightly.”

Mabel smiled weakly. “As long as I won’t be a problem…”

Ford shook his head and reached out to gently grip her arm. “You are not a problem, Mabel. Please don’t think that you are. I love you very much, and your health is paramount to me. That’s what comes first when planning our next moves.”

Mabel’s smile grew, and she threw herself forward to wrap her arms around Ford’s midsection. “I love you, too, Grunkle Ford. Thank you so much for taking care of me. I know I’m not as smart as Dipper, but I hope I can find a way to help you, too.”

“Stop right there, Mabel,” Ford said firmly, returning the embrace. “You have a wonderful set of skills that I’m sure will come in quite handy as we go forward. You don’t have to be like Dipper for me to appreciate that. Look at how well you handled your quest to get the unicorn hair we needed to protect the Mystery Shack. And think of how vital that protection ultimately was to our defeating Bill.”

“Well, yeah, that was pretty awesome,” Mabel admitted, “but you asked Dipper to stay in Gravity Falls to be your apprentice. And you were asking him to help you all the time even before that. It just seems like someone more like Dipper would be more of a help to you.”

“Oh, Mabel,” Ford said with a sigh. “I have been a fool. I saw so much of myself in Dipper, and he was so eager to help…”

Mabel gave a little laugh. “Yeah, he was pretty obsessed with you, pretty much from the time he found your journal in the woods.” She paused. “You’re his hero.”

Ford nodded, although the girl with her face pressed against his chest couldn’t see it. “I was aware of his idolization. I’m ashamed to say that I think I took advantage of it. It was quite a boost to my considerable ego. And that together with my lingering resentment toward my brother and the things that happened between us led to me seeing Dipper as a way to vicariously get the life I thought I should have had. My emotional issues led me to form a wedge between the two of you, all for my own personal gain and satisfaction. Please understand that what I did was not due to negative feelings toward you in the slightest. It was all about selfishness and self-absorption.”

Mabel pulled back and met his guilt-ridden gaze with wide eyes. “Grunkle Ford, that’s not true! You weren’t being selfish! You were trying to beat Bill, to stop him from coming to our world. Of _course_ you’d want help from one of the smartest guys around! Dipper’s been into mysteries and weird stuff forever; he was the best choice to try to keep up with you. And he’d practically memorized your third journal. If he didn’t know what it said about something, he was really good at knowing where to look for it. You two make an awesome team!”

“Thank you for your faith in me, Mabel, but I know myself better than that. Yes, my main goal was the defeat of Bill, and most of the motivation for that was to protect the world from his machinations, but a significant reason was to get revenge on him for fooling me so thoroughly, to prove that I could beat him without any outside assistance, that I could accomplish great things without his influence. And I was sure that I was the only one who could do it. Dipper’s persistence – and his accidental tumble into the basement after I’d told him to stay away, I must admit – forced him into my confidence. My ego and pride took it from there.” Ford managed to maintain eye contact with his niece, but only barely. It was the first time he’d admitted it all to himself, and he was not proud of it.

“Maybe all that’s true,” Mabel said softly, “but like you said, your main reason was to protect the world and defeat Bill.” Ford was utterly stunned by the sight of sympathetic tears welling up in the soft brown eyes gazing at him. “Now that you know about the rest, you can make up for it and not do it anymore.” She swallowed down a lump in her throat. “I still think you’re a good person, a great person even! You’ve done a lot of good, Grunkle Ford. And no matter what, I still love you.” She wrapped him up in another tight hug.

Ford was speechless as he returned the hug just as tightly. What an amazing young lady! Mabel had forgiven him. He only wished it was as easy to forgive himself.

The two of them held each other for quite a while. Finally, Ford pulled back and gave Mabel a watery smile. “You are an amazing comfort,” he said quietly.

Mabel grinned. “Of course I am! It’s one of the things I do best!” They both laughed.

“Are you feeling any better?” Ford asked once they’d calmed and he’d wiped away the tears he refused to let fall.

“I’m not quite as dizzy,” Mabel answered. “My stomach’s still doing flip-flops, though.”

“Go ahead and lie down,” Ford instructed. “I’m going to let Hazliss know he and his tribe can approach.” He hesitated. “It _is_ all right, isn’t it?”

Mabel settled herself onto the makeshift pillow she’d awakened on. “As long as you’re sure they’re not going to chase me again it should be fine.” She sighed once she was completely horizontal and covered with the extra blanket. “Yeah, that’s going to work.”

Ford smiled down on her and pushed himself to his feet. “They won’t chase you. They’ve accepted me and my family as part of the tribe. Although as I do recall you wouldn’t have needed to be concerned in any case. The fact that you escaped them earned their respect.” His thick eyebrows came together as his brow furrowed. “How did you manage that, by the way?”

The responding grin was the largest he’d seen yet. Mabel shifted around a bit and dug into her sweater before triumphantly pulling out her prize. “Grappling hook!” she crowed.

“Of course,” Ford said, smiling again.

“This baby’s been a real life-saver I don’t know how many times. I mean, maybe not right after I got it, but…” Mabel’s expression faltered, and she reached for her head with her free hand. “Oh, no!” she cried, her eyes wide. “I totally forgot… Where is it, do you know?” she asked, almost in a panic. “Did you see where it ended up?”

“Where did what end up, Mabel?” Ford asked her carefully, starting to worry about her health all over again.

Mabel dropped the grappling hook and started to struggle into a sitting position. “Grunkle Stan’s fez!” she declared. “I had it in my hands when Bill’s pyramid started flying apart, and I was wearing it when I got hurt here! It must have flown off when I hit the tree!” Her disjointed flurry of movements tangled her up in her blanket, thwarting her attempt to get up. “I have to have it! I have to be able to give it back to Grunkle Stan!” Her voice had become thick and broken with full-blown panic and tears.

Ford quickly knelt down to reach out and grab the distraught girl to still her thrashing. “Mabel!” he said sharply, cutting through her hysteria like a dash of ice water. She froze in his hold. “You’re going to hurt yourself further if you continue on like this. Lie back down, and I will find the fez.”

Mabel relaxed at Ford’s declaration, her eyes closing as she sighed. “I’m sorry, Grunkle Ford. It’s just… It’s all I had to remind me of anybody since I got here, and since I had it, that meant I had to make it until I could give it back.”

Ford gave her arms a squeeze. “I understand. It’s comforting to have a tangible symbol of those you care about when you’re in an unfamiliar situation.”

“Yeah.” Mabel opened her eyes and smiled. “I better lay down. I made myself dizzy again.”

“Go ahead and rest,” Ford said as he released her. “I’ll take care of things.”

“I know you will, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said as she settled back onto her pillow and straightened out the blanket. “Thank you.” She snatched up her grappling hook and let herself relax completely.

“You are extremely welcome.” Ford placed a light hand on Mabel’s forehead for a moment then rose to do as he said he would.

Stan’s fez had been hidden behind the tree they were at the base of but was mostly undamaged. The older man had been forced to quickly squash down another surge of emotions as he picked up the tasseled headwear when memories of the man who usually wore it flashed through his mind unbidden. A few deep breaths later, and he was calm again; he could deal with the occasional thought of Stan as long as they didn’t come in waves. He felt even better when Mabel fell asleep quickly once he’d returned the hat to her.

The rest of the evening went by relatively uneventfully. The Sarliss tribe rejoined the uncle and niece pair just before Mabel woke up from her nap, and they all shared a pleasant meal. Hazliss insisted on making sure the two of them were well prepared for their upcoming travels, giving both Ford and Mabel food, clothing, blankets, and other extra supplies. And when the hour got late, the tribe leader told Ford he and the rest of the tribe would keep watch despite the scientist’s protests.

“This isn’t your task, Hazliss, although I appreciate the gesture,” Ford said in a low tone. Mabel had fallen asleep a short time before the discussion had begun, her hand inside the fez.

“You wish to protect your blood; thisss is a good desire. But you must sssave that desire for tomorrow.”

“Hazliss…”

The lizard man held up his hand to halt the argument. “You and the little one are of the Sarliss. Tonight you are amongssst your tribe. Tomorrow you will be alone. You mussst be well resssted to protect the little one.” He smiled. “Allow usss to care for our own, Ssstanford. Ressst. You both are sssafe.”

Ford stared at him for a long, silent moment, then gave him a small, grateful smile and moved over to where a blanket and pillow had been set up for him near the slumbering Mabel. “Thank you, Hazliss. For everything.”

Hazliss merely nodded his acknowledgement and gestured to the closest tribesmen. They quickly formed a protective perimeter. Ford watched them settle into their watch, checked on Mabel one last time, and allowed himself to take advantage of the gift he was given, slipping into a restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a great reception for the prologue! Thanks to all my readers so far - hopefully this chapter has lived up to expectations! Again, feel free to let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 2

The air was dry when Ford and Mabel came through to the new dimension the next morning. The young woman shifted the Sarliss backpack she now wore as she looked around curiously, a distracted pat on the leather sack reminding her Stan’s fez was still inside. Ford’s gaze was sharper, an instinctual wariness making him do a threat assessment as he gauged whether or not he’d been there before. He thought it was likely.

“So we really don’t know who’s here, huh?” Mabel asked as the two of them started walking down a barely-visible trail to their left. She blinked at the dust their steps kicked up. “Whoa. I’d call this a desert, but it’s not hot enough.”

“There are cold-temperature deserts, Mabel,” Ford corrected her. “The Gobi Desert, for example. What defines a desert is the annual amount of precipitation and the specific variety of flora and fauna found in the environment. As for which of our number was displaced to this dimension, I can’t be sure. My device discovers energy signatures similar to ours, but there’s no way to identify someone based on the differences. At least, not yet.” He frowned in thought as he considered the problem for a moment, then shook his head and continued. “Anyway, if I am remembering correctly and things haven’t changed too drastically over the past seven years, this is a relatively safe place. It does lie within the outer fringes of the territory claimed by a group of self-styled ‘trade barons’, but their influence here is limited at best.”

“Wait, what?” Mabel asked, coming to a halt wearing a look of confusion. “What exactly are ‘trader barons’ and what do you mean they have a limited influence here? Could we get in trouble with them for being here?”

Ford shook his head. “I sincerely doubt we could get in trouble merely for being here,” he said, deciding to answer her last question first. “If nothing else, we could pretend to be potential traders. The herbs the Sarliss gave us would be sufficient enough to convince someone of that.”

Mabel gasped. “We’re not going to just give away the presents Hazliss gave us, are we? He gave them to _us_ , to make sure we had medicine if something bad happened.” She was a bit outraged at the suggestion.

Ford blinked at her vehemence. “Only if it became necessary,” he assured her. “I believe showing them as examples of what we would have to trade would be enough to convince someone of our veracity.”

“Well, good.” Mabel nodded sharply, satisfied. “And the rest?”

“The so-called ‘trade barons’ I spoke of are a group of five or six men who control an impressive percentage of the trade between a cluster of ten or eleven dimensions that border each other, making travel between them relatively easy,” Ford said. “Unfortunately for the people that live in those dimensions, they act more like a cross between petulant nobles and 1930s mob bosses.”

“That doesn’t sound very good, but I don’t think I know exactly what you mean.”

Ford considered how to approach his explanation. “What do you think of when you hear about the mob?”

Mabel thought about it. “Guys who shoot each other and take money from people by telling them that if they don’t they’ll get hurt.” She shrugged. “Those are the kinds of things they do in the movies, anyway. Oh! And they sell all kinds of illegal things out of the backs of real stores.”

Ford smiled. “Good enough. And what about spoiled nobles?”

“Is that like princes and princesses?”

“Almost. Nobles are the aristocracy ranked lower than that, such as dukes and barons.”

“Oh, right. I knew I’d heard that term before.” Mabel frowned. “I’d say it makes me think of Pacifica, but she’s gotten a lot better. Maybe the rest of her family, and most of the people they invited to their big party.”

Ford blinked. “Pacifica?” he asked. “Do I know her?”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah, I guess you wouldn’t! I’m talking about Pacifica Northwest; her parents are Preston and Pricilla, and I’m pretty sure they own the mud flap factory.” She scowled. “And they think it’s a big deal to be descended from Nathaniel Northwest, the guy who supposedly founded Gravity Falls but didn’t really.”

Ford nodded. “The Northwests, yes. I purchased the land the Mystery Shack was built on from their realty company.” He paused. “Ah, yes. I remember. You and Dipper discovered that it’s true that Nathaniel Northwest didn’t found Gravity Falls. I had always had my suspicions, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“You know? Did Dipper tell you?”

“Actually, I read Dipper’s entry in my journal,” Ford told her. He smiled. “I also saw your little addition to the page where I had attached the document that raised my suspicions in the first place. I need to step up my code-cracking game, huh?”

Mabel laughed. “Of course! Doesn’t everyone make hats out of documents when they’re trying to figure out stuff? How else are you supposed to figure out it’s a map?”

Ford blinked. “It was a map? How interesting. Dipper didn’t go into details.”

Mabel nodded. “We used it and ended up finding a room protected by booby traps under the Gravity Falls Cemetery. There were a bunch of secret government documents being stored down there, and a file about the biggest secret of all.” She grinned again. “The eighth-and-a-half President of the United States, Quentin Trembley.”

“I will admit that didn’t make sense to me when I read it,” Ford said. “Eighth-and-a-half?”

“Oh, I don’t remember all the details right now – although I know Dipper would – but in the end they kicked him out of office and he went on to found Gravity Falls. I guess everyone thought he was a big embarrassment, so they did everything they could to cover up everything he did. But it turns out he was actually really smart; he thought you could live forever if you encased yourself in peanut brittle, and it worked! We found him, and when the peanut brittle broke off he was alive and everything!” Mabel’s smile got bigger. “He made me a congressman!”

Ford nodded with a smile of his own. “I do remember the peanut brittle and your ‘appointment’. I have a feeling all the details about your discovery will make quite an amazing story, Mabel. However, I believe we should perhaps wait to tell it. Our focus needs to be on finding the members of the Zodiac so we can all return home.” His smile turned gentle. “I certainly do want to hear all about it, though.”

Mabel laughed. “I can’t wait to tell you, and it’ll be even better when Dipper’s there. He’ll remember the stuff I won’t.”

“I’m looking forward to it. But back to the main point at hand. I think that a rich family that owns a significant amount of property in a small area would be an adequate parallel to the trader barons, at least in regards to your understanding of the concept. The barons believe they can do what they wish with no consequences, and have the money and influence to insure that outcome. They are also willing to do underhanded and immoral things when they feel they don’t have enough control of a situation. They can be quite dangerous, but only if you break their laws or do things that could possibly threaten their hold on a portion of the population.”

“How would you do that last one?” Mabel asked.

“If enough people banded together, they could rise up and take control of their worlds and dimensions back,” Ford explained. “They could overhaul their corrupt law enforcement agencies and the segments of their governments that allow the barons’ influence to continue. If someone were to come in and encourage such behavior, or talked about such concepts and thus planted the right seeds, the barons would be forced to do whatever it took to stop that person or persons. They would not be kind.”

Mabel frowned slightly. “If the trader barons are so bad, why hasn’t anybody done what you just said? Why hasn’t anyone gotten people to work together and boot them out?”

Ford sighed. “People have tried. I know of at least one dimension where that was successful. But these people will not give up control easily. And unfortunately we are not in a position to disrupt the status quo. Our priority needs to be finding our people and going home.”

Mabel chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “I understand,” she said quietly. “I don’t like it, but I understand.”

Ford reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t care for a lack of action myself, but it’s necessary. However, I’m relatively sure the group that gained the freedom for one of the trader barons’ dimensions is still working for the freedom of the others. That was always their ultimate goal. We’ll be leaving things in good hands.”

“That makes me a little happy, I guess.” Mabel smiled for a moment then frowned again. “You said that this place is the barons’?”

“It’s on the fringe of their influence, yes. There are mines here that produce useful ores, but they’re slowly running dry, and there’s not a lot else here of economic interest. And so the barons don’t visit very often. With their lack of direct interest, people here are mostly left to their own devices.”

“So there’s not much threat from them. I get it.” Mabel’s expression cleared. “I guess we should get going then.”

The two of them walked on, stopping for a short time for lunch. It was mid-afternoon when they came to a small town of rough stone and thatch buildings, the now more-distinct roads all leading to a central square where a large well and daily market were located. The technology was definitely more primitive than Mabel was used to, and she couldn’t help but look around with wide, curious eyes.

Seeing the village confirmed to Ford that he had indeed been there before, and he led them to a certain vendor’s stall when he caught sight of the man through the crowd. “Falki,” he greeted the tradesman, “how goes trade?”

The older man with only wisps of grey hair above his ears narrowed his eyes for a moment then smiled. “It goes well enough, Ford,” he replied. “Been quite some time since anyone seen you in these parts. What brings you back?”

“I guess you could call it a bit of a quest,” Ford said. “I have some very… special and unique items I’m searching for, and I’ll be traveling across a few dimensions to find them. Do you happen to have any tabetha root in stock?”

“Potent healing there, tabetha root,” Falki said with a nod. “Got a fresh batch yesterday. How much you need?”

“Four knots for sure, five if you can spare it. Are you still taking Chandan credits?”

The merchant moved over to one of the chests along the right hand wall of the stall. “Hafta take the damn things,” he grumbled as he opened the chest. He pulled out five fist-sized items that almost looked like ginger roots with a purple undertone. “Barons make sure of that. You’ll find these are the good roots, not like what you see at Hattan. Stake my word on it.”

Ford smiled at him. “I believe you, Falki. Your wares have always been good.”

Falki nodded. “And you always pay a good price, never try to cheat. I remember.” He looked at Mabel. “This one’s new. Yours? Or you got yourself an assistant?”

“My name’s Mabel,” the girl introduced herself cheerily, offering a hand to shake. She missed Ford’s flinch at the last question. “Ford’s my uncle.”

“So you’re family then, huh?” Falki said, accepting her offer. “Good enough for me. You want any sweetmeats? Always get a little bag of them with my boxes from the port.”

“Um, I don’t know if we have the credits,” Mabel said uncertainly, trying not to offend as she glanced up at Ford.

Falki snorted before Ford could say anything. “Don’t need to worry about that, little one. Your answer tells me you’re a good one like the one who brought you here.” He pulled a small cloth pouch out from under the counter and handed it to Mabel.

She relaxed and smiled again. “Then thank you, sir.” She untied the leather cord that held the pouch closed and pulled out a candy, popping it in her mouth. “Oooo, it’s like licorice, but different!” she told Ford with a happy gleam in her eyes, quickly adding another one to the first.

Ford sighed indulgently and shook his head. “Don’t eat too many, Mabel. You’ll want them to last.” He chuckled when she simply gave him a thumbs up and kept chewing.

“She’s a lively one then, eh?” Falki said, grinning as he put the roots in a larger bag.

“Very much so,” Ford agreed. He reached into one of his pockets and retrieved a small pouch that jingled when he placed it on the counter. “Will this be enough?”

Falki hefted it in his hand before opening it to examine the contents. He nodded. “More than fair.”

Ford took the roots and put them in the bag slung across his back. “Are you still having problems with the urchins?” He gestured at a child across the square who wore well-worn clothes and rough sandals on his small feet. There was a wariness to the boy’s posture that couldn’t completely be hidden by his hunched shoulders and shuffling gait.

“Off and on,” Falki said. “Some of them are actually honest, willing to do some work for a bit of a bite to eat or a new pair of shoes or the like. More of them are like that one, though.” He pointed at the same boy, now being chased away from a merchant selling fruit with wide swings of a broom.

“Last time I was here it seemed _all_ of them were like that,” Ford said casually.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they were,” Falki said with a laugh. “But we’ve been getting a few more good ones around lately. There was one a few days ago, in fact. Had him running errands for me, that sort of thing. Seemed pretty smart.”

Ford shifted his weight and looked mildly curious. “What made him stand out?”

Falki shrugged. “Seemed a bit out of sorts. Had decent manners – real ones, not like the others. Never saw him begging. And he asked a lot of questions. I figure he ran away from a higher station, if you know what I mean. Found out what it was like in the real world.”

“I take it he hasn’t been around much lately?” Ford asked. The shopkeeper missed it, but Mabel looked up at her great uncle at the slight tension she heard in his voice.

“Not for the past three days, no.” Falki shook his head. “You know, it’s strange he stands out so much. He was only around for two or three days. But he was pretty different. Probably got scared off when Baron Kubek came through to check on one of the mines. That or his better class papa tracked him down. I wish him well, wherever he ends up. He’s a good one.”

“Sounds like he is.” Ford took a deep breath and released it. “Well, I suppose I should continue on. Come along, Mabel. We have a few more things to do before sunset.” He gave Falki a small smile. “It was good doing business with you again, my friend. I wish you well.”

Falki returned the expression, making sure to include Mabel. “It was real good to deal with a good one like you. I wish you well – and you as well, Mabel.”

Mabel smiled. “I, uh, wish you well, too. Have a good day!” She gave the man a little wave as Ford led her away.

The pair walked for a way without speaking, Ford lost in thought while Mabel kept a worried eye on him. She didn’t know what was bothering him, but something told her it was important. They casually meandered out of the market square down a string of side streets, eventually coming around to the road they had used to enter the town.

The familiar sight was enough for Mabel to finally break the silence. “Grunkle Ford, what’s going on? What did that guy say that has you all weirded out?”

“I’m sorry, Mabel,” Ford said, a bit startled out of his own headspace. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation, and we should find a place to camp for the night. Come along.”

“Grunkle Ford, come on!” Mabel groused after another five minutes of walking away from the village.

“This will be sufficient,” Ford said, pausing beside one of the few clumps of trees that could be found on that side of the settlement before leading his niece into the middle of it. “I’m not trying to ignore you,” he said as he shrugged off his backpack and sat down next to it. “I just wanted us to be settled before I began my explanation.”

Mabel sighed and copied his actions. “Oh, all right, Grunkle Ford. But can you tell me now?”

Ford nodded. “I asked about the urchins to get Falki talking about the local gossip. They were quite a problem the last time I was here, so it would be a logical question for me to ask. The information I really wanted, however, was about any newcomers to the town. If they had come recently enough, it would be worth our time to investigate. One of them could be our missing comrade.”

Mabel’s eyes widened slightly. “I get it. If someone had been here for less than a week, it could be one of us. Any longer than that, and we wouldn’t have to worry about it.” She stopped and frowned. “But you two didn’t talk about newcomers.”

“There was something about the new urchin he mentioned,” Ford said. “He was different enough for Falki to go on about, different enough to stand out after only two or three days. When the child’s intelligence was mentioned, I started to have a suspicion of who it could be.” He sighed. “I only wish it wouldn’t have been so suspicious for me to ask for a physical description.”

“Who do you think it was?” Mabel asked, a spark of something in her eyes that spoke of her own suspicions.

“I think it might be Dipper.”

Mabel gasped and brought her hands up to her mouth. “He’s here? You really think Dipper’s here?”

Ford held up his hand to curb her enthusiasm. “I can’t be entirely sure. All of the signs lean in that direction, but I don’t wish to dismiss the possibility we’re seeking one of the others. We’ll investigate more fully tomorrow and hopefully come away with answers to our questions.”

Mabel sighed and let her hands fall into her lap. “I want it to be Dipper,” she said wistfully. She blew out a little breath. “So where are we going to be looking?”

“My thought is that we should begin with where the urchins usually find shelter and work out from there. We don’t know how well he fit in with the others, so he very well could have found something far away from them.”

“Just what do you think we’re going to find?” Mabel asked.

“Clothing. Other personal items he wouldn’t want taken from him during the day. Other items he thought would be far out of place here,” Ford answered. “He must have done something with those items. Falki mentioned nothing about odd clothing or the like, just that his behavior was above the rest. Meaning he took enough precautions before revealing himself to make sure he wouldn’t stand out.” Ford smiled. “That was actually quite a brilliant move. Drawing attention to oneself when you’re unsure of the situation at hand can be dangerous.” His look turned wry. “I speak from experience.”

Mabel grinned. “I wouldn’t mind hearing about that one of these days.”

Ford smiled back. “Yes, well, that day won’t be today. For now, we should get a fire started and make our evening meal. That and plenty of rest is exactly what we’re going to need to make it through what is bound to be a very long day tomorrow.”

The two of them shared a laugh then started in on the fire and meal. The rest of their evening was spent going over their supplies and making sure their camp was as concealed as it could get. They had no tents – the Sarliss didn’t understand the need for them – but it was warm and dry enough that sleeping only with a blanket and pillow was more than satisfactory. And before the moon had risen very high in the sky, sleeping was what they did.

* * * * * * * *

The next morning was spent on the far side of town dodging deceptively vicious urchins and casually patrolling authorities as Ford and Mabel checked out the damaged and/or abandoned building the children had gravitated to. The living quarters were clustered together in an area around where the settlement stored surplus crops to guard against lean times and was out of sight of the market square, yet not that far from it. They were surprised by how many belongings the beggars actually had; Mabel was the only one surprised by how many creative ways they’d found to keep the most valuable items hidden from those who wouldn’t have a problem taking them for their own.

After eating a lunch purchased from a market vendor, the duo considered their options a few blocks away in a patch of shade that gave them at least a small amount of privacy. “I believe we may have to consider the possibility that our companion…”

“Dipper. It’s Dipper,” Mabel interrupted her great uncle.

“We have to consider that Dipper,” Ford corrected himself, not willing to rehash the disagreement they’d had over breakfast, “has left for another town, perhaps one he thinks has a better chance of leading him to the rest of us. Interdimensional travel is common here, if not widely ranged. It wouldn’t take much effort to overhear a merchant or trader discussing such things.”

“But the scanner led us here,” Mabel protested. “Are you sure there isn’t someplace else we can look? I mean, now that we’ve seen those urchins close up, I _know_ Dipper wouldn’t fit in with them, and he wouldn’t want to. I think he’d want to hide out somewhere pretty far away.”

Ford nodded. “I can see your logic, but you do have to remember that my scanner isn’t as pinpoint accurate as you’re giving it credit for, certainly not now that we’re here. I haven’t been able to get it to narrow its focus to its current, singular dimension without sacrificing the wide-range, multi-dimensional capabilities. That last is the more important of the two.”

Mabel gave him a smile of encouragement. “You’ll get it to work both ways, Grunkle Ford!” she enthused. “I know you will!”

Ford returned the expression. “Perhaps, but not now. What we really must answer is this: if Dipper is still here, why hasn’t he gone to the market?”

“He could be sick,” Mabel promptly answered. “Or maybe he got hurt and walking around would only make it worse. He could even be taking care of somebody else. It could be lots of things.”

“Those are all very legitimate reasons, Mabel,” Ford said, impressed. “You’ve convinced me.” He thought for a moment while Mabel basked in the glow of the praise. “I believe I remember a pair of small abandoned houses near where we entered town. If Dipper came from the same direction, he likely would have noticed them as well. We should continue our search there.”

It didn’t take them long to reach the edge of town and the buildings in question. The first house had most likely been abandoned relatively recently. The roof was still intact, and the dirt and dust were thick but not overwhelming. The only thing that had disturbed the layer of filth were a few trails of tiny footprints. Nobody was staying there.

The second target could only be loosely called a house. There wasn’t much doubt that was what it was meant to be, but time and some kind of accident or catastrophe had damaged it – most likely beyond repair. The walls of the back left-hand corner were mostly intact, while a large chunk of what used to be the right hand wall had fallen against them. A section of roof draped over the gap between the tops of the two. The far left and right hand sides of the front wall had also fallen back; it left the main door of the building standing strangely alone and upright in defiance of what had happened to the rest of the house.

Beyond the obvious damage, what really caused questions about Dipper actually staying there were the various plants trying to take over the place. Trees stood to either side of the vertical section of the front wall as well as right behind the door, shrubs and grasses grew tall and unruly all over the area, and ivy-like vines covered the wood, stone, and thatch like a ratty carpet. It was hard to see where someone would enter, although it was feasible that there was enough space inside to serve as a hopefully temporary shelter.

“It’s bigger than anything the urchins have, that’s a plus,” Mabel said, her eyes wandering over the structure to take it all in.

“It’s also more private and remote, which would make it easier to conceal anything the native people here shouldn’t have access to, including Dipper’s true identity and dimension of origin,” Ford added, nodding with approval.

“The other one we looked at seems a lot better, though,” Mabel said.

Ford shook his head. “For someone with secrets it would be too exposed.” He pointed toward the market at the end of the wide thoroughfare. “Someone from a way down the road could easily see an exit or entrance, and Dipper couldn’t be sure who was or wasn’t paying attention. This place is more concealed, and with all the plant growth I’m sure there is at least one way to enter that could be used without detection. This building would be a very good choice.”

Mabel perked up. “Well, I guess we should find a way in,” she said, then smiled and pointed at the tree on the other side of the door. “I betcha that’s not it,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Ford chuckled. “No, you’re probably right about that.” He paused after looking more closely where Mabel was pointing. Without any warning, he walked briskly forward until he was nose to wood with the middle of the door.

Mabel blinked at her uncle’s sudden movement. “Um, Grunkle Ford, what are you doing?”

“There’s some kind of symbol here,” Ford said, answering more out of habit than intention, his focus laser sharp on what had caught his attention in the first place. He reached out a hand and touched the mark. “It was burned into the wood before being covered in some kind of paint or dye.”

“But what is it?” Mabel asked once she’d joined him. “Now that I’m this close I can see what you’re talking about, but I have no idea what all the swirlies and curl-a-bobs mean.”

“If it is what I suspect, it would most certainly explain the condition of this house in comparison to the others,” Ford replied as he drew back to take a wider view of the symbol. He pushed aside vines that were covering part of the mark and traced the revealed portion with a light finger. “Yes, it’s as I feared. This is the mark of the plague.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Whoa, the plague? Like the thing that killed all those people in Europe in the Middle Ages?” She stiffened slightly. “It wouldn’t still be around, would it?”

Ford shook his head without looking away from the door. “It is a similar strain of the disease, yes, but it’s been decades since there were any cases of it here,” he explained. He sighed. “There was a family of five here, all lost. And I’m sure in accordance with the superstition prevalent here, the townspeople made the house inhabitable as soon as the bodies had been disposed of.”

“Why would they do that?” Mabel asked softly. “And how do you know there were five of them here?”

“These marks here,” Ford said with a sympathetic gaze for the girl, gesturing to five crossed-out teardrops below the main symbol. Two were larger than the other three. “The drops themselves mark how many are in the house. The first slash marks those who are sick, and the second is made upon death.”

“That’s so sad,” Mabel murmured, staring at the double-slashed drops.

Ford watched her, a bit surprised at the depth of her emotion for people so long passed. “As for your first question,” he continued after a moment, “because no one survived, the townspeople were inclined to believe the house itself was cursed. So to protect the others, they made it so no one else could live here and begin the epidemic all over again.”

Mabel took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Did them doing that make a difference?”

“In a practical sense, more than likely not,” Ford said matter-of-factly. His voice softened when Mabel’s shoulders slumped slightly at the negative answer. “But they thought it did, so I’m sure the family’s neighbors felt better. During such a frightening time as a deadly epidemic, feeling a little safer could be invaluable.”

“I guess so.” Mabel took another deep breath, this time blowing it out in one loud puff. She visibly put on her usual happy attitude and smiled. “Let’s get in there and see if we can find Dipper. That’ll make everything better.”

“Let’s start looking for an entrance then.” Ford wasn’t sure just how much of her sadness Mabel had actually been able to let go of or if it would do her good to press her about it, so he allowed her the façade.

Under the pair’s close scrutiny, it wasn’t too long before a barely-noticeable gap in the hanging vines at the back of the house caught their attention. “But there aren’t any footprints,” Mabel pointed out, gesturing at a couple of small patches of dirt where it would be reasonable to find them.

Ford crouched down for a closer look. “I believe it’s possible that any prints made here have been brushed out,” he mused. He gazed more carefully at the surrounding bushes. It took a minute or two, but he found what he was looking for, plucking the broken leafy branch out of the shrub in which it had been placed. “It seems someone has been in the area,” he said to Mabel with a slight smile. “And that someone didn’t wish to advertise their presence.”

Mabel couldn’t help but return the expression with a lot more real feeling than she’d had a few minutes before. “Dipper’s smart enough to do that. I bet it really is him!” She started to bounce on the balls of her feet. “I think he’s really here!”

“Don’t get your hopes up too much, Mabel. Dipper may have indeed been here, but he may not be right at this moment – and we’ll be back to the beginning.”

“Oh, it’s too late for that! My hopes are way, _way_ up!” Mabel laughed. “Let’s go in!” She darted between the vines and disappeared.

“Apparently I still have some work to do to truly understand her,” Ford said to himself as he followed at a much more sedate pace, taking care to look around for any possible witnesses. Luckily there were none.

There hadn’t been a great number of noises as they’d searched around the broken house, but once inside even those were muted. The sunlight was also reduced, screened by the surrounding plant life, yet there was enough to see clearly. To their left was a large pile of rubble; understandable, as that was the side of the house with the most damage. To the right was a trio of blankets tucked into the space where the two most intact walls met, one scrunched up into a makeshift pillow while the other two were laid out on the ground one on top of the other. Someone was definitely staying there, but there still wasn’t any concrete evidence as to whom.

Ford moved further into the space, walking over to the blankets to take a closer look at the area around them, hoping to find that evidence. Mabel, meanwhile, found her gaze going in the opposite direction, her eyes taking in the details of the rubble and her imagination wondering just what had been buried underneath all that crumbled stone and splintered wood. She stepped over to the sloping pile and continued to follow it around along the side closest to where she had entered to the wall that was leaning over to create the new ceiling, even getting down on her knees to get as near to the point where that wall met the ground as she could.

She blinked when she reached her destination. There, half-hidden by dirt and the rest by shadows, was a jagged slab of stone the size of both of her hands side by side and fingers spread wide. It was out of place there; Mabel thought it would have made more sense on top of the pile, closer to the open part of the space. Then suddenly she started to smile. She knew her brother well, better than anyone else. This was just the kind of thing her mystery and conspiracy-loving twin would think of. But what would he be hiding?

With a grunt, Mabel pulled the stone away from its resting place and found it easier than she’d expected; the jerk she’d given it had her flopping back to land on her butt. What she uncovered, though, made her gasp in happy surprise. “Grunkle Ford!” she called out in glee, pushing the stone away and scrambling back to where it had been.

“What is it, Mabel?” Ford asked, moving over to quickly join her. He stepped up behind her, bent over nearly in half, just as she sat back with a familiar prize in her hands.

“It’s Dipper’s vest!” she squealed, her grin as wide as it could go. She thrust the blue puffy vest up at her stunned uncle’s face. “It’s Dipper’s vest! He’s here somewhere!”

“Dipper’s been here,” Ford automatically corrected, pushing her hands down. “I don’t believe he’s here now.”

Mabel giggled. “But he’s got to come back, right? He left his real clothes here!” She gasped again as she looked back at where she’d grabbed the vest. “And the magic crystal flashlight!” She frowned as she put down the vest and picked up the flashlight from the hole the stone had been covering. “Why would he leave this here? It could be really useful.”

Ford narrowed his eyes in thought. “I’d say Dipper didn’t think he had a secure place to hide it amongst his new clothing,” he said after a moment. “And he couldn’t afford to have it stolen from him by any of the less scrupulous townspeople he was sure to encounter while he worked in the market. It was best to keep it here and hidden away with the rest of the things that would identify him as an outsider.”

Mabel placed the flashlight on top of the vest and pulled out Dipper’s red shirt. “I guess that makes sense,” she said, then sighed wistfully as she tossed the shirt on top of her pile. Silently she retrieved her brother’s blue and white pine tree hat.

“You know this doesn’t automatically mean something bad has happened to him, don’t you?” Ford asked, awkwardly trying to comfort her. He wasn’t sure if he really believed it.

“You don’t have try to make me feel better about this, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said softly, staring at the blue pine tree as her fingers mindlessly rubbed the brim. “I know you were right all along. Dipper’s not here, but his stuff is. People haven’t seen him in the market for days.” She looked up at Ford. “I just want him to be all right, but now that I’ve seen this, I’m scared that he isn’t.”

“I want him to be all right, too, and I’m just as scared as you are,” Ford admitted in an equally quiet voice.

Mabel nodded and put aside the hat with another sigh. She then pulled out his shoes followed by his shorts. She blinked when she saw the burlap bag that was resting beneath the khaki bottoms. “What’s this?” she asked, untying the leather cord that held it closed.

Ford’s brows rose when he saw the revealed contents. “Dried food,” he said, surprised. “Dipper was storing food.”

Mabel cocked her head to the side. “Do you think he was worried about not being able to earn enough?”

“While I’m sure that may have played a small part in his thinking, I believe Dipper’s main consideration would be trying to reunite with everyone,” Ford said.

“And he’d need food in case he had to be away from cities and towns and things for a long time,” Mabel added brightly. “He’s really good at coming up with plans like that, even if his lists get really long and complicated.”

“I think we should check the rest of this space and see if there’s somewhere to tuck oneself away from this main area,” Ford said as Mabel tied the bag shut once again. “Dipper might have chosen to do something like that if he was sick or injured.”

Mabel nodded as she scrambled out of the tight space she’d wedged herself into, leaving her brother’s clothes piled next to their former hiding place. “If he is, he’s sleeping like the dead with all the talking and stuff we’ve been doing. Which is what he tends to do when he’s sick.” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey, Dipper!” she shouted, making Ford flinch at the sudden unexpected rise in volume. “How can we come and save you if you’re just going be a big dummy and not say anything?”

There was no answer. Ford quickly grabbed Mabel’s wrists before she could yell a second time. “We really don’t want anyone from outside to realize we’re here,” he said in response to the confused look she gave him. “Let’s just look around.”

Mabel grinned and gave him two thumbs up. “You got it, Grunkle Ford!” She immediately went to the other side of the rubble pile and began scrutinizing the nooks and crannies.

It wasn’t long before they both could tell there was nowhere else a person could hide. They stood in the middle of the single room and discussed their options.

“We’re going to have to return to the market and attempt to gather more information,” Ford said. “With our remaining options, we’re going to need more to work with.”

“What options are those?” Mabel asked.

“Well, as unlikely as I consider it, there’s a possibility that Dipper inadvertently broke the law and is currently sitting in jail. It would have had to happen some distance from the marketplace or Falki would have known about it.”

Mabel raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Dipper’s not, like, an angel or anything, but he hates getting in trouble. I think it would have to be a pretty weird law for him to break it without knowing about it.”

Ford smiled. “You’d be surprised at some of the laws towns like these have enacted through history. However, as I said, it’s unlikely, especially something serious enough to keep him incarcerated for three days. We will have to disprove the hypothesis to be thorough, though.”

“I guess so,” Mabel agreed with a shrug. Then she smiled. “Although, if Dipper _is_ sitting in jail, I will _never_ let him live it down! At least last time it was Grunkle Stan’s fault – this one would be all on him!” She laughed.

“Do I want to know how or why Stan got Dipper put in jail?” Ford asked, bracing himself for whatever he might hear next.

“Oh, it was all three of us,” Mabel corrected him happily. “Stan had us counterfeiting hundred dollar bills by telling us it was a great way to spend quality family time together. We got caught.”

Ford nodded stiffly. “Apparently. But just as apparently you must have been released with no charges filed. How did you manage that?”

Mabel’s smile got wider. “Let’s just say that the sheriff and his deputy aren’t the brightest crayons in the box. Stan told them it was just an art project for a summer school class we were taking. They believed him.”

Ford sighed and shook his head in disapproval. “I can’t believe Stan thought that was quality family time.”

“He did better the next time,” Mabel defended Stan. “He took us fishing.”

“Fishing?”

“Fishing.”

“Nothing else? No ulterior motives?”

Mabel chuckled. “Dipper and I were suspicious, too, but no, he only wanted to go fishing. It wasn’t _our_ first choice, but…” Mabel cut herself off, her cheeks turning rosier than usual. “It was a great way to end the day. We all had a lot of fun.”

Ford narrowed his eyes at her. “There’s part of the story you’re not telling me,” he said suspiciously.

Mabel gave a nervous titter. “I think I’ll save the rest of the story for when Dipper’s here. And maybe Grunkle Stan and Soos, too.” She cleared her throat. “So where else do you think Dipper could have gone?”

Ford stared at her for a long moment then let it go. “I believe he might have heard about something he considered worth investigating outside of town,” he said. “It may have taken him longer than he expected.”

“But he left all that food here,” Mabel said.

“If he did go out of town, he probably only took a small amount, perhaps even only what he had worked for that last afternoon.” Ford frowned. “I’m not sure how much stock I take in this theory, but it’s a possibility we have to account for.”

“And what do we do if both of your theories are wrong?” Mabel asked.

Ford blew out a short breath. “We’ll have to find somebody, anybody, who has seen Dipper since the last time Falki mentioned to me.”

Mabel frowned in confusion. “Why haven’t we done that before now?”

“Without going into details, until the three of us are together, it wouldn’t be safe for Dipper to be associated with me. A couple of the trader barons took quite a dislike to me.”

“What did you do?” Mabel asked in a tone of awe, her eyes sparkling at the potential for juicy gossip.

“In short,” Ford began after a moment of hesitation, “some dealings I engaged in caused a trading route to shift out of the territories of two trader barons. Out of the entirety of the trader baron domain, actually. When they figured out what had happened, I was forced to move on quite quickly. It was only those two who concerned themselves with me, though, so we shouldn’t run into any problems here. Rumors fly fast and far, however, so I don’t wish a merchant who travels to another part of the domain to be able to say the wrong thing to the wrong person.”

Mabel nodded. “Not until Dipper’s with us and we can get out of here,” she finished for him. “I understand. So I guess that Baron Kubek your friend talked about isn’t one of the ones who doesn’t like you?”

Ford looked slightly disturbed. “Thankfully no. I have heard tales of what he’s done to people who have crossed him, and even with everything I’ve seen and experienced during my time on this side of the portal, it’s nothing I’d like even a portion of first-hand experience with. Luckily we know he’s already been here and gone, so it’s not likely we’ll run into him while we’re here.”

“So what do we do now?” Mabel asked.

“We should probably settle in for the night,” Ford answered. “There’s room for the both of us, and Dipper would likely come here should he return before dawn.”

“Do… do we have to?” Mabel asked, suddenly nervous.

“What’s the matter, Mabel? Why don’t you want to stay here?”

Mabel sighed. “I don’t know, Grunkle Ford. It’s just… that family you told me about, the one that died from the plague. The later it gets, the more I think about them and how they died.”

Ford gave her a small smile. “There’s no chance of the plague here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She shook her head. “No, not exactly. It’s more the family. They were sick here, and they died here, and I bet no one knew for a while so they were just laying here, and then the townspeople just got rid of them and knocked their house down, and it’s just so sad I can’t get it out of my head!” Mabel bit her lower lip and looked away. “I’m being silly, I know, but I’m just not very comfortable here.”

“It’s all right, Mabel,” Ford said soothingly. “I will admit I don’t understand why your imagination has taken a hold of this idea so strongly, but no matter what the reason, the fact is you’re not comfortable here. That’s what’s important to me. We’ll just go back to yesterday’s campsite. It is more than adequate for our needs.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cried with a relieved smile as she threw her arms around his waist and squeezed. Ford was happy to return the embrace. After a moment, the two separated, and Mabel looked over at the still-uncovered hiding place in the rubble pile. “What should we do with Dipper’s stuff?”

“I wouldn’t normally suggest this, but I believe we should take it with us,” Ford replied. “The odds of Dipper returning before we reconnect with him are small, and this way we won’t be required to return. The magic crystal flashlight could turn out to be useful as well.”

Mabel stepped over to her brother’s clothes and started to pack them in her bag. “He’ll probably be real happy to see these when we catch up with him,” she said, putting the pine tree hat on top of the pile. “Do you want to take the food or should I?”

Ford held out a hand. “I’ll put it in with my things.” He took the offered burlap pouch and tucked it away as Mabel did the same with the flashlight. “I know there was an entry about the height-altering crystals in my journal, but how did you come to create that device?” he asked once they both were finished.

Mabel smiled. “Dipper and I were being stupid,” she said, then proceeded to tell her grunkle the story of their height squabble as she and Ford headed out and back to their original campsite. They spent the night talking of little things, of light-hearted memories and a few hopes for the next day’s search. They were both calm when they laid down to rest, confident that they would get the information they needed when the new day dawned.


	4. Chapter 3

Neither Ford nor Mabel were surprised when they quickly found there was no evidence to support either of Ford’s theories from the evening before when they arrived in the market the next day. Ford casually went from stall to stall of merchants he’d dealt with before, buying supplies and guiding the conversations to the gossip he was interested in without giving away its true importance. Mabel found herself the recipient of treats, toys, and compliments as she tagged along and kept an eye on the urchins as Ford had asked her to do. They didn’t seem to be acting like they were under orders from some Fagin-like organizer – someone who might have taken offense at Dipper’s independent work and done something about it - nor did they seem to be acting differently from how they had the last times she’d been there.

“And things have finally settled down after that Baron Kubek felt the need to check up on the Mountain Springs Mine,” one of the merchants declared a couple hours after lunch. “Half my buyers stayed away for an extra day or two just to make sure he really left.” He shook his head. “That man is just bad for business, any business that’s not his own, that is.”

“So I’ve heard,” Ford replied. “There must be some advantage to his coming, though. Like the urchins, for instance. I know they can be quite a handful from time to time, but certainly not while the baron’s here.”

“Only because they’re just as scared of him as everybody else, not that I blame them,” the man shot back. Disgust deepened his scowl. “The baron’s men go looking to them for so-called ‘treats’ for their master. Makes you feel sorry for them, even if they just robbed you blind, and especially if they’re one of the few good ones that come through here. Like that one new boy, with the shaggy brown hair and was willing to work for what he got. If he did something for you, you knew it would get done and get done right.” He shook his head while Ford and Mabel were frozen in shock, Ford only barely able to keep his emotions from showing on his face. “He did the smart thing and tried to slip out of the market when the baron and all his people got back from the mine, but one of the fancier looking cronies caught sight of him anyway and followed him. I’m guessing the man got his prize, because the boy hasn’t been back here since. That one I truly mourn. He could have made something of himself.”

“Falki was saying something similar,” Ford said in a tense, distant voice. “He definitely sounds like one of the good ones.”

The man nodded. “Yeah, I noticed the kid running errands for him, too.” He gave Ford a small, knowing smile. “I think hearing about that kid got to you,” he said a bit slyly. “Must be from running around with the girl here. Softened you up some.”

Ford placed a gentle hand on Mabel’s shoulder and gave the merchant a half smile. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said quietly, giving his hand a light squeeze when he felt his niece shudder at the other man’s nonchalant tone. “Spending time with young relatives can have that effect. I find I don’t have any regrets about that.” He took a deep breath and released it, letting go of Mabel as he did so. “I suppose I should finish collecting our supplies so we can continue on our way. We have some important tasks to attend to.”

The man put the pouch of already-purchased machine parts on the counter. “You always did have places to go and things to do,” he said with a chuckle. He pointed at Mabel, who jumped a bit at the gesture. “You know, I think I may have something special for you, something that should give your uncle here a little peace of mind.” He dug around under the counter and pulled out a six-inch long cylinder about the diameter of Ford’s index finger. “This is a beacon.” He separated it into two equal parts. “One’s for you, and the other for your uncle. When you press the button on either half, the other half vibrates and gets warm. Then, as they get closer together, the vibration gets stronger until it’s just about constant. And the range is pretty impressive; I think you’d have to be in different dimensions for it not to work.” He put the device back together.

“Thank you,” Mabel whispered as she took the gift.

“Yes, thank you,” Ford added, surprised. “This must be quite valuable.”

“My supplier messed up an order last cycle so he gave me an extra box of these things,” the merchant said dismissively. “You’ve always been good and honest with me, and you seem to be bringing up a good one here. It’s worth a gift like this.”

Ford gave him a small smile. “Thank you again. Hopefully I’ll see you again the next time I travel this way.”

The man grinned. “That’s what I’m hoping for as well. Good luck to you, to both of you.”

Ford led Mabel away, and the two of them found a quiet place out of sight and hearing of the market. “That Baron Kubek has Dipper,” Mabel choked out, her voice filled with fear. “You said he does awful things to people.”

“That I did,” Ford said gravely, his own voice trembling slightly. “It never occurred to me that he would be interested in someone so young.”

“What do we do? Where do we go?” Mabel asked desperately. “We have to get Dipper back!”

“And we will,” Ford said firmly. “I believe the baron has returned to a large city about a day’s travel from here, where a dimensional gate operates to accommodate travel between the dimensions in the trade barons’ domain. Kubek must have had further business there before heading back to his own holdings since we were led here by my device.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “The city’s a day away? Shouldn’t we get going?”

Ford took her arm to prevent her running off in a random direction. “We will, very soon,” he assured her. “There are a small number of things I need to pick up, and then we’ll head out.”

Mabel took a deep breath and bit her quivering lower lip, struggling to keep from crying. “Okay, Grunkle Ford,” she said finally. “Let’s go.”

They returned to the market, where Ford restocked their supply of food and added extra clothes and blankets for when they were reunited with Dipper. He surprised Mabel by purchasing weapons, in particular a hand crossbow that he gave to her with a quiver of bolts and the supplies to maintain it. He finished off the shopping with a few more medicinal supplies then took his leave of the last vendor he was dealing with and led Mabel calmly away in the opposite direction than they’d entered the square that morning.

By the time the two of them reached the far edge of town, Mabel was struggling with the new items she’d been given. “Grunkle Ford, hold on,” she said to the man walking ahead of her.

“There’s no time to wait, Mabel,” Ford said shortly, not stopping.

“But I can’t carry everything, not like this,” she complained. “I’ve got to reorganize this stuff, or something’s going to get lost or break.” She sighed. “And maybe that something will be me,” she muttered, coming to a halt and plopping down to the ground to sit and sort her things.

It was at least another minute before Ford realized he was no longer being followed. “Mabel, I know you understand the urgency, so I don’t see why…” he began as he stopped and turned around, his expression annoyed. He drew himself up short when he saw the pile of items next to the pack Mabel had just pulled off her back and opened.

Mabel looked up to see confusion on the man’s face. “It was getting pretty awkward so I figured I could take a minute and put it in my bag.” She sighed and looked at the pile that now surrounded her. “I’m not completely sure how all of it’s going to get in there, though.”

Realization dawned across Ford’s features and his shoulders slumped. “I apologize, Mabel,” he said as he stepped back over to her and crouched down. “I let my feelings of guilt overwhelm me and forgot to take your needs and abilities into account.”

“I can carry everything, I promise!” Mabel protested, eyes wide. “I just need to reorganize it and I’ll be ready to go!”

“I know, I know,” Ford said calmingly. “I don’t have any doubt of that. What I didn’t think of was your lack of knowledge or training in the items I gave you, as well as giving you time to adjust to the increased burden.”

“I should have said something,” Mabel said quietly.

Ford smiled. “You shouldn’t have had to.”

Mabel smiled back. “We’re both being dorks about this. We’re all worried about Dipper so we’re just rushing off without thinking of anything.”

Ford’s eyebrows rose. “I think you’re right. When did you get to be so wise?”

“I was born this way!” Mabel replied with a laugh and a grin. Ford couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“Let’s get all your things repacked and we’ll get moving,” he said once he’d calmed.

They both worked at finding the optimal way to organize Mabel’s things in her bag then replacing them. Once she had adjusted the strap that went diagonally across her chest, Ford proceeded to explain how her new crossbow worked and how to be safe with it. Then he attached it to the side of her bag in its case, the quiver of bolts to her waist on a length of cord he retrieved from his own supplies.

“I expect you’ll more naturally use your grappling hook in case of emergencies, but it’s always important to have an effective and reliable backup,” Ford said as he slid his pack back over his shoulder. “There may also be situations where the crossbow will be the better choice.”

“That makes sense,” Mabel agreed, making one last adjustment to her sweater. She grew serious. “And Grunkle Ford?”

He met her gaze. “Yes?”

She held that gaze, her somber expression not changing. “You have nothing to feel guilty for. The baron and his people are the ones who are the bad guys here.”

Ford was surprised at the change in topic. “But I’m supposed to be watching out for him, for all of…” He cut off his knee-jerk response and pressed his lips together tightly.

“You can only do so much, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said firmly. “And I know you’re doing your best. It sounds like Dipper was gone before we ever got here, so how could either of us stop it?” She blew out a loud breath and let her body sag a bit. “Please, let’s just go get Dipper back and everything will be better. Nobody deserves to feel bad about all this but the baron.” She paused thoughtfully. “And Bill,” she added with some bite. “Bill and his stupid weirdness bubbles and trying to take over everything. He definitely deserves to feel all the badness we can throw at him. I’m just glad he’s gone.” She gave Ford a worried look. “He _is_ gone, right?”

“Yes,” Ford answered determinedly with no hesitation. “The memory gun took care of that.” And he wouldn’t let himself believe anything else, not considering the sacrifice that was made.

“Good.” Mabel stepped forward and wrapped her uncle in a warm embrace. “I love you, Grunkle Ford, and I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

Ford returned the hug just as warmly. “I love you, too, Mabel. And I promise, we’re going to get Dipper back and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep both of you safe.”

Mabel replied wordlessly, giving him an extra squeeze and snuggle. Ford simply held on until she chose to end the contact, letting her affection act as a balm on his battered heart and soul. It was quite a while before they moved on.

In the end they did continue toward their destination, eating dried food for their supper and not stopping when the sun went down. The light from a sky full of stars and two small moons lit their path. It was very late before Ford noticed Mabel stumbling along and called a halt so they could get some sleep.

Sunrise saw the pair up and going once more, breakfast once again consisting of dried meat and fruit as they walked. They reached the city as night was falling once more, and with a sigh of resignation, Ford made the decision to simply get a room at an inn and order them both a hot meal. Mabel was disappointed but made no protest.

From everything Mabel could tell the next morning when she woke up a little after sunrise, Ford had been up long before her. Their belongings were securely packed and the dishes from the previous night’s meal had been neatly piled on the serving tray they’d come with and placed on the small table next to the door. The man himself was fully dressed like he was about to leave for the day; he sat on the bench beside the singular window and used the sill as a desk to write in a notebook he must have picked up before he’d found her, a recently extinguished candle beside his work. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of notes and observations he thought important enough to make a permanent record of.

It was only a moment later when a yawn crept up on her, alerting Ford to her conscious state. Robbed of her chance to observe without his knowing the man who had appeared in her life so suddenly only a little over a month before, Mabel stretched like a cat, blinked the last of her slumber away, and gave her grunkle a smile. “Morning,” she said quietly before yawning again.

“Good morning,” Ford returned just as quietly, a tiny smile of his own forming. “Breakfast should be brought up to us soon, and then we can think about heading out to gather the information we need.”

“And what information is that exactly?” Mabel asked as she sat up and let the blanket puddle in her newly-created lap. “I mean, I know we’re following the baron, and especially Dipper, but what are we asking? And how do we ask it without being all blinking-neon-sign, hey-look-we’re-following-the-baron about it?”

“Those are very good questions, Mabel, if oddly phrased.” Ford closed his notebook and tucked it and his quill away in an inner pocket of his trench coat. “We’re going to have to play a similar game to the one we played in Springston. We go looking for gossip about the baron – fortunately his presence here is incredibly gossip-worthy. Once we get the right piece of news, we should be able to infer where he has decided to situate himself while he’s here.”

Mabel grinned wickedly. “Then we can go get Dipper, and there won’t be anything that stupid baron can do to stop us.”

Ford’s eyebrows rose. “Well, that will certainly be the goal, although we’ll have to come up with a good plan before we attempt it.”

“Pfft! Details!” Mabel waved off the negativity.

“Practicalities,” Ford corrected her, unable to fight back another small smile.

“We’re going to get him back, Grunkle Ford. Count on it,” Mabel said forcefully.

Ford nodded. “Of that I have no doubt. You won’t allow us to fail, I believe.”

Mabel laughed. “You better believe it!” Her laughter faded and she started to scratch the back of her head. “Man, I feel so grimy. Is there any way I can wash my hair before we go anywhere? What do I have to do to protect my stitches?”

Ford blinked. “Oh, you shouldn’t have to worry about that at this late date. It’s been long enough that you should be just fine. I’ll have them bring up a tub and some hot water after we finish with breakfast.”

“But what about my stitches? Aren’t you not supposed to get stitches wet?”

“The thread I used helps completely seal a wound as it dissolves into the skin,” Ford explained. “There shouldn’t be any chance of complications now.”

“So why have you been changing my bandage every night before I went to sleep?”

Ford finally understood Mabel’s confusion. “It does take some time to totally dissolve and complete the seal, so at first the bandage was necessary, especially since we were sleeping on the ground, and one should change said bandage regularly to prevent infection. The last day or so it was merely precautionary. I even think I might have turned it into a habit out of my desire to keep you safe. I hadn’t even considered the situation until you mentioned washing up.”

Mabel paused for a moment. “So I can take the bandage off and just wash my hair,” she said more as a statement with only a hint of a question. She smiled when Ford simply nodded. “Yes!” she cried, pumping her fists. “Gonna say goodbye to the gunk on me!”

The next couple of hours went by relatively uneventfully – they both decided not to think about Ford’s attempt to help Mabel wash her hair with the bar of soap that proved to be the only thing available for personal hygiene amongst their supplies – and they made their way out determinedly to get the answers to their questions. The city didn’t have a dedicated square for their merchants like the previous town had; instead there were a number of streets in the same quarter with store fronts, many of them with colorful banners and awnings to catch the attention of passers-by. The set up added to the time it took to get from familiar vendor to familiar vendor. It frustrated the both of them, but they knew it couldn’t be helped.

Ford and Mabel were in a shop near the edge of the district, the scientist examining a few samples of different kinds of rope that were available, when the shopkeeper started to get chatty. “You know, since it’s been so long since you were here last, you probably haven’t heard that they’ve expanded the merchant’s quarter,” the man said. Even Mabel, who was only half paying attention being much more enthralled with the mural painted on the wall beside the front door than in anything related to ropes and cords, could tell he was fishing for a reaction.

“I thought that might have been the case as I reacquainted myself with the area this morning,” Ford replied evenly. “Things must be going well for the city.”

“We’ve seen a lot more trade, certainly. That’s been good for everyone. Even if it means some of the barons visit a little more often.” The shopkeeper frowned slightly.

“Barons are visiting more often?” Ford asked. “I’d heard something about Baron Kubek visiting Springston to check up on the Mountain Springs Mine, but not about him or anyone else visiting here.”

The other man nodded. “Oh, the baron was here, too. But he’s just the latest baron to wander around here and disrupt everything. Although Baron Kubek in particular likes to try to make the world revolve around him while he’s here. He’s the worst of the lot.”

Ford let a corner of his mouth twitch upward. “I’ve heard that about him in regards to a number of things.”

The merchant laughed. “That is true, very true. I just despise the way he makes his visits to the shops out to be favors doled out by some kind of deity. He stops by the tailor, isn’t it wonderful? He goes to see the fruit merchant, how fabulous.” He rolled his eyes.

“I believe you said he was here,” Ford said, fighting back an urge to look over at Mabel. “I take it that means he’s left.”

“And I’m glad he has,” the other man said forcefully. “I thought we were done with him after his little tour before he went to check out the mine since it isn’t absolutely necessary to go through here on the way to the gate, but for some reason he decided there were just a couple more things he needed before he could go home.” He scowled. “I don’t know why he couldn’t have visited his pet jeweler or the herbalist the first time through. It would have saved everybody a lot of bother.”

“His pet jeweler?” Ford asked, unable to keep his jaw from clenching any longer. He only hoped it wouldn’t be noticeable.

The vendor nodded. “Havrik deals in some exotic stones from places outside the domain, and he does his best to make sure the barons – and in particular Baron Kubek – gets first choice of the best of the lot. And when the barons hear about things that happen around here, you can bet that he’s the reason. The brown-nosing worm.”

Ford felt his entire body tensing up more and more as the man kept talking and the seconds ticked by. It was all he could do to keep it out of his voice. “I wonder what the baron needed so badly,” he said nonchalantly.

The other man snorted. “More like wanted so badly,” he scoffed. “I heard he wanted some kind of charm from his jewelry stop, although I’ve got no idea what he would have been looking for from the herbalist. Whatever it was, I hope he overdoses on it.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’re not the only one to be thinking that,” Ford said distractedly. A moment later, he shook his head and gestured at one of the rope samples. “If I could have five clicks of this one, my niece and I should be on our way.”

Ford quickly moved the transaction along, only allowing enough gossip to find out about the herbalist the other man had mentioned. Once everything was complete, he put his new rope inside his pack, took his leave as politely as he could considering the churning emotions behind the calm, detached façade he wore, and ushered Mabel away from the mural and out onto the street. He led her to an empty narrow alley then leaned against one of the walls to work on controlling his breathing.

“Dipper’s not here,” Mabel whispered, leaning against her grunkle. “The baron took him away. How are we going to find out where they went?”

“I’m hoping Kubek announced his next destination as part of his show of superiority,” Ford answered. “That’s why I made sure to find out more about the herbalist he’s supposed to have visited. The jeweler would be pointless to talk to; he’d either make sure Kubek heard about our questioning, or he’d recognize me and pass along information about my whereabouts to the barons I’d like to avoid. And the last thing I’d want is for them to find out about you.”

“But if Dipper’s not here, why did your machines say he was?” Mabel asked, reaching out to grab a handful of Ford’s coat. “Are they really working?”

Ford sighed as his brows furrowed in thought. “The same questions occurred to me as well,” he admitted. “I’m relatively sure the scanner is working. I suppose it’s possible that it discovered another source with an energy signature within the parameters I set. What I don’t understand is what could have caused the strength of that signature to be at a level that would trump the others the scanner detected if it wasn’t coming from a member of the Zodiac.” He glanced around before pulling out the scanner to run an abbreviated diagnostic.

Mabel watched him for a moment before starting to fidget with the strap of her bag. Another moment later she slipped it off and opened it. She stared inside as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, then reached in and pulled out her brother’s hat. She surprised herself by not crying while she ran a gentle finger over the blue pine tree. She gave a sad sigh.

The sound caught Ford’s attention, and he looked down at her with a small, shaky smile, intending to give her a few words of comfort. But when he saw what she was looking at, his eyes grew wide as an idea clicked in his mind. Instinctually he stopped the diagnostic and turned the scanner to read Dipper’s hat, and a few moments later he had the answers he needed.

“It was the pine tree,” he said a touch breathlessly as he saved the results of the scan. “It has to be the pine tree.”

“Wait, what?” Mabel asked, thrown by the apparent change in subject. “What’s the pine tree?”

“The symbol on Dipper’s hat,” Ford said. “Dipper is the pine tree of the Zodiac wheel, and his hat is the physical representation of his symbol. Because he was wearing it at the time we all held hands, even for as short a time as that ended up being, his hat was infused with a certain level of energy. We all were. Although the actual people will have a higher level, as we began with a natural baseline due to being living creatures.”

Mabel blinked. “So you’re saying that your machine read the energy of Dipper’s hat? Why would it do that instead of reading Dipper? Or anyone else, I guess.”

Ford gestured toward the scanner. “Don’t forget that distance is also a factor in ranking the various signatures it receives. My guess is that this dimension is closer to where I found you than Dipper’s current location, as well as…” His voice trailed off as he realized where his logic was taking him. “Um, well, let’s just say that Dipper’s present condition could also be affecting the strength of his readings.”

Mabel swallowed hard. “I hope you’re not saying that Dipper’s…” she swallowed again, “dead.”

“No, I am _not_ saying that,” Ford said firmly. He crouched down to her level. “As horrible as this is to say or think about, Baron Kubek doesn’t take much pleasure in killing people. All of the rumors and stories I’ve heard suggest he prefers to… play with them, break them down before putting them to work for him in various ways. Dipper is still alive, and I have to believe that Kubek hasn’t had him long enough to do too much damage. It may be enough to dampen his energy readings, however. I’ll have to boost the scanner before we use it to look for him again, assuming that following Kubek to wherever he is now isn’t enough.” He took a deep breath and released it. “We will get Dipper back, Mabel, and we will help him heal from whatever Kubek has done. You have to believe that.”

“I believe it,” Mabel said softly but determinedly. “I totally believe it. What do we have to do now?”

“First, we find the herbalist and see if he knows where the baron went from here,” Ford replied. “Then we follow him and find out if he still has Dipper with him. Once we know where Dipper is, we devise a plan to get him back and follow it through.”

Mabel gave him a small smile. “We can do that.”

Ford returned the expression. “We most certainly can. And now we should get going.” He rose to his full height as Mabel put Dipper’s hat back in her bag then shrugged it back across her body.

“You know, now that we know the physical representations of the symbols also carry their own energy, it explains to an even greater extent why I was led to you first,” Ford mused as the two of them reentered the stream of pedestrian traffic and headed toward the herbalist.

“I wasn’t just the closest to you?” Mabel asked.

“You may have been, but you had two symbols with you that would work to boost your signal,” Ford said. “There was you yourself, of course, and you’re wearing your sweater with the shooting star – your symbol. But you also had Stan’s fez which carries _his_ symbol. The odds were definitely stacked in your favor that the scanner would detect you first.”

Mabel blinked. “Whoa, I almost forgot about Grunkle Stan’s fez, at least when it comes to the symbols. But doesn’t that mean we could end up chasing people’s clothes all over the dimensions? Well, most people anyway.”

Ford thought about it. “I suppose it does,” he concluded. “That isn’t necessarily a bad thing; it can give us a start on being able to find them, and we’d most likely know where they first ended up.” He paused for a moment. “Do you know who wouldn’t have their symbol represented by something physical? I will admit I wasn’t paying the closest of attention once we found the correct people.”

Mabel considered it. “I have my sweater, and Dipper has his hat,” she began. “Grunkle Stan has his fez. Soos has a question mark on the shirts he always wears, and Robbie has his hoodie with the stitched heart.” She smiled. “I gave Pacifica her llama sweater, so she has that.” Her mouth twisted as she thought again. “Um, I suppose McGucket has those glasses he got from the museum. And you have your hands.” She paused and her eyes grew wide. “I didn’t mean anything bad, Grunkle Ford.”

“I didn’t think you did, Mabel,” he said with a small smile at her concern. “I promise, no offense was taken. You’re right, of course. My symbol is the six-fingered hand. Although I hope I won’t be leaving either of them behind to be discovered by my scanner.”

“Oh, I hope not, either,” Mabel agreed, cringing at the thought.

“That does leave two symbols, the ice and the eye-star,” Ford continued. “Wendy doesn’t wear anything with an ice symbol on it, does she?”

Mabel shook her head. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t, unless it’s something she doesn’t show to anybody. But she didn’t volunteer for that spot until you said it didn’t have to be literal and the others started chanting her name.”

Ford nodded. “That’s true. And the eye-star? Why was Dipper so sure it was that boy with the white hair?”

Mabel sighed. “Gideon used that symbol when he was passing himself off as a psychic. It was on top of his Tent of Telepathy.”

“Yes, yes, _that’s_ what Dipper said, the Tent of Telepathy symbol.” Ford’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t seem particularly thrilled that he stood next to you.”

“I wasn’t,” she said bluntly. “But I should probably tell you that story some other time. I think we’re here.” She pointed at a sign that said “herbs”.

“I see we are.” Ford gave her a smile. “Let’s go get some answers, shall we?”

Mabel smiled back and nodded. “Definitely yes.”

Ford spent the first part of their time in the herbalist shop introducing himself and discussing the available wares. When he was satisfied, he shifted the conversation to something more casual as he made his choices for purchase. It wasn’t long before things headed in the direction he wanted them to go.

“I must admit I’m glad you aren’t looking for wellenga flower,” the herbalist said with a relieved sigh. “I have just enough to cover an order from one of my regular customers, and she won’t be in until tomorrow. I’d hate to disappoint anyone.”

“I take it something unexpected happened to cause your supply to be so limited,” Ford said, suspecting he knew what the answer would be.

“Baron Kubek came through, that’s what happened,” the other man said ruefully. “Between that, a large amount of tessoli oil, and the other random herbs he demanded, he managed to almost completely undermine my ability to make a decent profit this cycle. Don’t get me wrong, the payment he gave me is above my costs, but it’s nowhere near the profit I could have made through my usual business transactions.”

Ford shook his head in sympathy. “The baron is far too accustomed to doing business that way,” he said. “But is he involved in some kind of conflict? Tessoli oil is normally used in large quantities by healers to sedate injured patients, isn’t it?”

The herbalist rolled his eyes. “Normally that would be the case,” he agreed. “But the baron loudly boasted that this would be for his personal use and that it would be a perfect companion to gifts he had recently acquired.” He shuddered. “I didn’t need to know about how he intends to spend his private time.”

The man’s reaction kept him from noticing Ford’s own involuntary shudder, although Mabel saw it and frowned. “Baron Kubek is definitely known for his voracious appetites,” Ford said after he gave himself a moment to control his tone.

“Very true, good sir. Very true.”

“At least he’s gone from here,” Ford said. “I suppose he’s returned to his main holdings to enjoy his ‘gifts’.” He couldn’t hold back his look of disgust at his phrasing.

“That’s what he announced to his people when he finally chose to leave here,” the herbalist said with a matching expression. He sighed. “I wish I could have done something for those poor people he calls gifts. I never saw them, but I can imagine their fear and horror. Poor souls.”

Ford nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. “Well,” he finally said softly, “I suppose I should be on my way. If you would wrap up the items we discussed, I would appreciate it.”

The herbalist did so, and wished the pair farewell with a heartfelt invitation to return. Ford led Mabel out as he tucked the packets of herbs into a few different pockets of his coat, then headed for a food vendor’s stall at the end of the long avenue. He ordered them both meals, and they sat on the lip of a small nearby fountain to eat them.

Mabel returned the cloth that had wrapped her meat pie to the vendor before standing in front of the still-seated Ford with her fists on her hips. “You think something extra bad is happening to Dipper,” she accused him. “I saw you shudder when the herb guy talked about what the baron wanted to do with that oil he bought. What do you think is going on?”

“You don’t want the details, Mabel,” Ford said, deadly serious. “No matter how much you say you do, believe me when I say you don’t. Suffice to say we must get Dipper back from Kubek as soon as possible before any permanent damage can be done.”

“You’re really not going to tell me, are you?” Mabel said, frowning sadly. “Even though he’s my brother, my _twin_ brother.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t,” Ford insisted. “You don’t need those images in your head. You already know Kubek does any number of horrible things to people; that’s more than enough reason to get Dipper back quickly.” He paused to swallow a lump in his throat. “Please understand I’m trying to keep your pain and worry to a minimum. I care about you too much to do otherwise.”

Mabel took a deep breath and released it shakily. “I just want to be able to help him when we find him,” she murmured, her arms dropping back to her sides.

Ford reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I understand, and if we find that Kubek has done what I’m afraid of I’ll tell you what you need to know. What I’m trying to protect you from is if Kubek hasn’t. You don’t need those images in your mind – especially associated with your brother – if those are things that Dipper hasn’t suffered.”

Mabel nodded and squeezed his hand back. “I get it now. I won’t ask again unless I have to. And I really hope I don’t have to.”

“That’s my hope as well,” Ford said softly. He sighed. “I think we’re going to have to get another room for the night and be prepared to leave as early as possible in the morning. There’s no way we’ll reach the dimensional gate before nightfall, and it would be suspicious for us to arrive at Kubek’s holdings so late. I hate putting this off any longer, but I don’t see that we have any choice.”

“We don’t, Grunkle Ford, but that’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Mabel reassured him. “We’re going to get Dipper back, and he’s going to end up being fine, and we’re going to find everyone else, and we’re all going to get back home. We just are.”

“Thank you for your faith and confidence, Mabel,” Ford said warmly. “You really keep me going when the going gets rough.”

Mabel laughed and hugged him. “That’s one of my super-awesome talents! Conqueror of all things negative, that’s me!” She pulled back after Ford had returned the embrace heartily. “Let’s go to the inn. And if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you all about Gideon.”

Ford chuckled and started to lead the way back to where that day had begun for them. “I have a feeling this is going to be quite a tale.”

“You have no idea, Grunkle Ford. Absolutely no idea.”

* * * * * * * *

Again their night was uneventful, and the morning found them packed and on their way as early as Ford had hoped. It took a couple of hours to reach the dimensional gate; actually going through to Kubek’s holdings was simple. Mabel found herself surprised once they got there, however, since she had built it up in her imagination as a dark, foreboding place with a permanent stormy gloom casting shadows over everything. The day was sunny and bright, and a few people walking in the opposite direction as she and Ford traveled toward the town that encapsulated the baron’s estate even smiled and said hello as they passed.

The pair was once again to find themselves frustrated and disappointed when they arrived at the town around midday. The baron and his entourage, complete with three new additions, had left just hours before. Mabel managed to overhear a pair of servants talk about Kubek’s plans to add another slave or two to his collection, and when she told Ford, the older man turned pale and hurried her off to the other side of town and beyond, finally stopping beside a just-budding field of unknown grain.

“What’s going on, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asked once she caught her breath. “What was it about what those servants said that got you so weirded out?”

“Kubek must be going to the slave auctions in dimension 35-9*7,” Ford said darkly. “There’s one about every week or so as we keep time, and business is always steady. I don’t know if he’s planning on selling Dipper or buying others, but I do know that we can’t take the chance.”

“He might sell Dipper?” Mabel asked incredulously.

Ford shrugged, his expression still dark. “I can’t be certain. It will all depend on how much he appreciated his… ‘gift’. Fortunately, he won’t be able to do anything before we arrive. The auction coordinators don’t allow outside deals, either to be completed on-site or to be started then completed off-site, and participants must be registered at least a day in advance if not earlier.”

Mabel nodded. “Okay, so you think we can really catch up to him?”

“We’re only a few hours behind him now,” Ford said. “We know where he’s going. We’ll catch up.”

“Then let’s get going!” Mabel enthused, grinning. “I can’t wait to get Dipper back!”

“Hold on, we need to consider what we’re going to find when we get there,” Ford cautioned. “The dimension where we’re headed is extremely dangerous, with laws and rules of conduct that don’t necessarily match up with what we’re accustomed to. You need to understand that these are people who are willing to see other sentient creatures as property and potential property. We _must_ stay together, because if you’re found alone, people will not hesitate to add you to the next auction.”

Mabel’s smile had faded as Ford spoke, finally settling into a frown. “But if we’re seen together, won’t people know that I’m with you and leave me alone?”

Ford shook his head slightly. “They won’t care, Mabel. One of the standing rules is that children, servants, and slaves that are found separated from their main benefactor are considered free game, to be collected and added to the next auction’s inventory.” He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes showing the tender emotions he couldn’t seem to allow out anywhere else in his countenance. “I can’t lose you, certainly not like that.”

Mabel blinked and tried to give him a tiny smile. “Don’t worry, Grunkle Ford. I’ll stay with you.”

“I know you’ll certainly try,” Ford said, letting his hand fall back to his side. “However, if the worst case scenario should come to pass, I should have enough credits to buy you back. Just trust in that and don’t panic.” He smiled briefly as she nodded then grew serious again. “The other thing I’m concerned about is how closely visitors – whether they’re buyers or not – are monitored when they have arrived through official channels. Since our intent is to take Dipper away with us, and stealing another person’s… living property is one of the greatest offenses one can commit there, our plan will have to be swift and foolproof.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “Unless we can find an unofficial channel,” he mused, his eyes narrowing.

“You know a way we can sneak in over there, don’t you?” Mabel asked, getting excited. “And we can do the same thing to sneak out again when we’re done! What is it, Grunkle Ford? How are we going to do it?”

“Give me a moment, Mabel,” Ford said, pulling out the scanner and the portal device. He cycled through the stored energy frequencies and stopped when he got to the one he wanted. “I believe if I use the signature reading I got from Dipper’s hat as an additional parameter, I can increase the odds that the scanner will detect Dipper as the closest and strongest frequency. Combined with his known proximity, those odds would be as high as I can make them.”

Mabel watched as Ford pressed all the right buttons and did some quick mental math. She was surprised when he didn’t immediately activate the portal. Her brows furrowed. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

Ford sighed and looked at her. “I just realized that you’re going to have to change into the clothing the Sarliss gave you. You’ll attract too much attention wearing your usual outfit.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? I mean I…” She let her knee-jerk protest fade and sighed. “I guess an awesome sweater like this _would_ make everybody stop and stare, and that’ll make it hard to grab Dipper and run without being noticed.” She took a deep breath and grinned. “Is there anything else I should do?”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t wear the headband,” Ford suggested. “And if you could pull your hair back into a braid like you had it when I found you it would probably be best.”

“That’ll be easy enough.” It didn’t take her much time at all to complete her transformation, although she did need to be reminded to take off her white socks, as dirty as they were, as they stood out far too much against the dark grey charcoal tank top and mid-calf length leggings she had changed into.

A quick once-over of their supplies had Ford satisfied that they were as ready as they were going to be. They both took a deep breath, and the portal was activated. Neither one looked back before walking through.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thank you so much to everyone who has read and enjoyed this story so far. You all inspire me to keep going when I run into mental blocks, such as the ones that led to the time between updates. I do apologize for that. Consider this chapter as your gift for sticking with me and my lengthy tale, and I hope I'll be bringing another one to you sooner rather than later. Enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!_

It was like a dry spell amidst the plains of the central United States when they got their bearings. A huge mesa rose up from where dirt and rocks took the place of yellowing grass, and Ford immediately led them toward it, having sighted a small grove of scraggly trees amongst the thorny brush that dotted the cliff sides. It took some time, but the two of them ended up safely nestled amidst the crooked trunks and branches.

“So where is all the auction stuff?” Mabel asked once they were settled. “Is it on the other side of the mesa?” She smiled and shrugged when Ford looked at her. “We went to the Grand Canyon for a vacation a couple of years ago. Dipper kept insisting that mesas were mesas the whole trip.”

“I see, although I wasn’t surprised by your knowledge of the term,” Ford said, amused. He sobered quickly. “The entirety of the operation actually takes place on top of the mesa. It goes on for miles. From what I could see, however, I believe we were fortunate enough to end up on the side opposite the official gate. That will make things easier.”

“We’re going to climb up, aren’t we?” Mabel asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She reached into an outer pocket of her bag and pulled out her grappling hook. “I get to break out this baby!”

Ford reached out and lightly restrained the arm waving the tool around triumphantly. “I’m afraid not,” he told her somewhat bluntly. He decided to ignore the resulting pout. “It has the potential to create noise that can’t be explained by natural causes, and the guards on the perimeter are quite paranoid.”

Mabel frowned. “They’re all the way on top of the mesa,” she protested. “Why would the ones on this side be paranoid?”

Ford gave a humorless chuckle. “We won’t be the first to attempt this, and I highly doubt we’ll be the last. And some of those that have tried in the past were actually quite formidable,” he explained. “It doesn’t help that the organizers are also known to assign people to posts on this side to aid in the arrangement of a deadly accident or two.”

“These auction guys are some pretty bad people,” Mabel said with distaste. “We don’t have to deal with them in person or anything, do we?”

“I most certainly hope not,” Ford said, looking a little disturbed at the thought. “If everything goes well, we’ll be able to find Dipper, get him back, and move on to the next dimension before the next auction comes close to starting. We can deal with any fallout then.”

Mabel nodded. “Then we’ll have to make everything go great!” she proclaimed confidently. “When do we start?”

Ford looked out toward the horizon where the sun was hanging low in the sky. “Our timing has unfortunately trended toward this since we arrived to look for Dipper, but it’s too close to sunset to begin such a challenging climb. But that means we can be sure to get plenty of rest, and I can take the opportunity to examine the cliffs and potentially find the best route to the top.”

“That’s a great idea, Grunkle Ford. I’ll set up our blankets and get some of our dried food out for supper. I’m really glad we stayed at the inn the last couple of nights, though,” Mabel said as she took off her pack and gestured for Ford to hand over his. “We would have needed to worry about refilling our canteens soon otherwise.”

“I didn’t realize you’d been paying attention,” Ford was surprised into saying as he gave her his bag.

“To be honest, I wasn’t. At least not until we left Springston and had to reorganize everything. That’s when I noticed how many empty canteens I had.” Mabel shrugged. “But I knew you’d take care of everything. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

Ford gave her a brief hug and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for your confidence. I’m going to go check the cliff.”

Mabel was drawing in the notebook he had purchased for her in Springston when Ford returned just before full dark, the tiny camp ready and a reasonable amount of their dried goods set out. She had a flashlight aimed at her work tucked just over her shoulder amongst the branches of the thorny bramble bushes that provided the bulk of the cover in the trees. The cone of light was shielded from prying eyes above by the fabric of her skirt draped over the thorns above and to the side of the its source. Ford smiled at the sight, and the two of them shared a quiet evening before going to bed early.

The night passed quickly, and the crack of dawn saw Ford waking Mabel up as quietly as possible. They ate silently, followed by packing up their gear and moving over to the spot Ford had picked as the best for beginning their climb. They adjusted their packs and waited for the sun to rise high enough to make their trek safe.

Their progress was slow. Mabel turned out to be much nimbler than Ford expected, but the length of her arms and legs prevented her from keeping up the same pace he was capable of, and he refused to climb out of reach of her. The biggest advantage to his positioning was the ability to find the best hand and footholds; it smoothed out the journey considerably.

Their luck ran out when they reached a point about three-quarters of the way up the cliff. What had looked like a rock shelf cast in shadows from the ground at sunset turned out to be an even wider gash in the side of the cliff filled with especially sharp thorny bushes. On top of that, Ford thought he’d been leading them up at enough of an angle to be able to skirt the disturbance, but he’d miscalculated. That made them travel sideways; Ford clenched his jaw at the realization, knowing every extra step increased the odds they’d be discovered by the patrol they could start to see periodic shadows of as they walked along their circuit.

The two of them got around the edge of the gash without much further trouble. Ford started to climb upward again, moving back toward their original trajectory, confident they were going to make it. He couldn’t see anything else that would prove to be an obstacle.

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel choked out a moment later, destroying that confidence.

Ford’s head spun around to the right and immediately saw why the girl was starting to panic. The knot at her hip that attached the strap of her bag to itself was jagged and loosening, and Mabel’s grips on the rock face were tiny cracks that barely allowed her fingers and toes to find a hold. She couldn’t risk letting go to grab the bag, yet letting it fall into the bushes below them would most likely cause enough noise to attract the attention from above they needed to avoid. Also, the bag slipping off uncontrolled was just as likely throw off her balance and cause her to fall as well.

The older man shimmied down to her side, managing to find a wider edge that allowed him to balance without handholds. He looked Mabel in the eyes and gave her a shaky smile. “It’s going to be okay,” he breathed, hoping to stop the tears he could see forming. She nodded as he reached out with his right hand to touch her stomach, taking a hold of the pack’s strap just above the knot. “Do you know what happened?”

“I think it caught on a couple of the thorns as I went by,” Mabel answered just as quietly. “I heard a rustle and a snap when I pulled myself past the last of them. My bag shifted a bit, too, but it’s done that a bunch of times, usually when I rub a little close to the rock.”

“That explains why the material is a bit rough,” Ford said. “I think I can shift myself so I can retie the knot well enough to last until we get to the top and you can hold it together, but you can’t move while I do it. Will you be all right?”

“I have to be,” Mabel said simply. “Just be really careful, okay?”

Ford smiled. “I will.”

Somehow he managed to twist his upper body enough to be able to use his left hand to untie the loosening knot, pressing his left shoulder into the cliff to maintain his balance. He grabbed a sturdier part of the base of the bag, one that had significantly less damage, then started to pull the strap with his right hand to bring it closer. Because of his precarious position, to make the pull he shifted his weight from his right foot to the left – and felt the stone beneath that foot crumble to rubble. His balance was gone, and instinctually he let go of the strap while tightening his grip on the base of the bag to try to find an emergency handhold. But there was nothing to find. Ford could do nothing to keep himself from falling.

Mabel recovered from the strap of her pack zooming past her face and clipping her ear just in time to see her great uncle lose his battle with gravity. “No!” she involuntarily cried as he fell into the bushes below and disappeared into their depths with a loud crash. “No, no, no, no, no,” she chanted at a lower volume when she saw there was no sign of him whatsoever. She didn’t even know if he’d survived the fall.

“Who’s there?” a deep voice from above said just as Mabel thought she heard a light groan and saw a twitch of thorns.

The girl gave a horrified gasp and turned her head to see the source of the question. Her eyes widened when she saw a gun being pointed at her face. “Um, me?” she squeaked out. “Uh, just me!” She could only hope Ford had heard and would stay still.

“I can see that,” the man holding the gun said with a smirk. The voice didn’t match; it must have been the man standing beside him that had called out first. “Now then, as I see it you have two choices. One, you climb on up here quietly and we take you to our masters. Two, you refuse and either I shoot you or we drop rocks on you until you fall to your death. Take your pick.”

“Those don’t seem like very good choices,” Mabel complained, shooting a quick look at the bushes below her.

“They’re the only ones you got,” the man shot back. “And don’t think you can get away by dropping into those bushes. We’ll just drop rocks on you until we’re sure there’s no way you could have made it, maybe even drop a torch or two down to light it all up. Now make your choice.”

Mabel took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Only one way gave her a chance. “I’ll come up. You don’t need to drop junk on me or anything.” She started to climb.

The two men laughed. “I knew you’d see it my way,” the man with the gun said arrogantly.

The three of them were silent for a little while, the men keeping a close eye on Mabel’s progress. “So just what did you think you were doing trying to climb up here?” the first man asked when she had almost made it to the top.

Mabel fought off the urge to look back down. “I heard my brother might be here,” she answered quietly. “Our parents are… well, they’re not here, and he’s… well, he’s my…” She let her words trail off, unable to finish the lie that he was the only family she had left. Ford had to be okay, and Stan had to be out there somewhere. And there was Soos and Wendy… She had lots of family out there. She wasn’t about to jinx it.

“Guess you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” the gunman said as his partner hauled Mabel up when she got close enough. “I doubt either one of you is gonna have time or energy to even think about each other once the auction is over. Now let’s go.” The pair each grabbed an arm and pulled her away, heading toward the large cluster of buildings in the distance.

From the bush-filled gash in the cliff below, Ford released a shaky breath. He had heard everything, had even seen a limited amount through the tiny gaps in the thorns, but knew he wouldn’t have been able to free himself in time to do anything but end up captured along with Mabel. Guilt washed over him as he realized the girl had been aware of his survival and had made sure to draw all of the patrol’s attention onto herself. She’d even acquiesced quickly to keep them from doing damage to the bushes. She was so, so brave.

And she had bought him the time he needed to get himself out of his current predicament and up to the top of the mesa without being noticed. He would do what he needed to do then slip into the auctioneers’ compound. He’d make sure he had more than enough credits to buy both younger twins back if that was what needed to be done, and he would save his family. He wouldn’t allow himself to do anything less.

Failure was _not_ an option.

* * * * * * * *

Baron Kubek was a physically handsome man. He was tall and athletically built, with honey blond hair, ice blue eyes, chiseled features, and a strong, square chin. His voice was a smooth baritone, and when he smiled it brought to life a small dimple in his right cheek.

For those who had no reason to look any deeper, or who chose not to, his physical appearance was more than enough to satisfy them that he was a man of his word, a man of the people. But for most people, the outward shell was a lie. It hid the coldness of his gaze, the darkness of his harshly-worded commands, the selfishness of his desires… the emptiness of his soul. He was not a good man. Power and control were the center of his being, and he had both in abundance.

He had come to the latest auction to find a new plaything or two to go with the gifts his people had gathered for him. The first had finished his initial conditioning just in time to come along; maybe Kubek could find himself another one like him, get himself a matching set. That would be lots of fun. And he’d get to watch both of them mentally crumble into total depraved obedience together. Delicious.

His entourage followed behind him as expected as he walked amongst the occupied slave cages in the inspection quarter. Periodic glances confirmed his precious new gift was following instructions and keeping up at the edge of the pack. Kubek smiled wickedly at the blank, barely-focused gaze atop the body of bare skin only disrupted by a long leather loincloth over a tight pair of leather briefs. A moment later he put aside the hunger the sight inspired to be dealt with later. For now, there was a particularly developed specimen to examine. This one might be useful.

* * * * * * * *

There were people in the cages that were lined up to either side of him, most of them human. The group he was with had stopped, and he found he had no interest to know why. A tiny part of him tucked away in the back of his mind, hidden from everything he’d been through recently, knew it wasn’t like him to not be curious. But he couldn’t afford to let that facet of his personality come to the surface. It couldn’t even be a shadow behind the surface. If _he_ saw it… No, there would just be more of what had come before, and more of a chance to lose what he’d managed to save. That would make him break his promise, and he would do _anything_ to keep his word. He had to.

His eyes blinked slowly, and with that he let the stray thoughts drift away. His gaze unfocused, only marginally registering what his group was doing so he would know when to move with them again. The minutes ticked by unnoticed.

After a time, the person in the cage next to him shifted. There was a loud sigh, followed a beat later by the sound of something hitting the bars with a solid thunk. “Ow,” a soft little voice muttered, obviously trying not to be heard.

The sound was different enough that he most likely would have turned his head slightly at it anyway, but there was something about that voice, some note or tone that resonated with the core of him. It had him blinking for a moment before drawing his head completely to the side like it was pulled on a string. A girl sat in the cage with her head resting against the bars behind her, her eyes aimed straight ahead yet looking at nothing in particular. Something wasn’t quite right about the image; the dark grey tank top and leggings were too… drab, and the braided hair too restricted. He struggled to put the puzzle pieces together correctly, not ever thinking of what would happen if the baron saw him with that light in his eyes even though the rest of him was as still as before.

Whatever the girl was thinking about made her flash a brief smile followed by another sigh as it faded. But the glint of sunlight off of metal gave him the solution he desired. It was Mabel! Somehow she had ended up stuck in a cage to be sold to the highest bidder in the upcoming auction. With that realization came question after question all jumbled up and muffled in his mind. His eyes widened, and he started to turn to fully face the cage.

But before he could move more than a fraction, a voice that always made mental shivers fly up and down his spine spoke in its usual arrogant tone. “Now let us see what’s on the other side of the aisle, shall we?”

He let his eyes fall shut as the rest of the entourage flowed around him to take up their new positions next to Mabel’s cage. As much as he hated it, he had to hide again, had to tuck himself away. He just couldn’t be caught, or it would all be for nothing. A few quiet, deep breaths let the fog flow in. And as he reopened his eyes to their now-normal half-lidded state, he drifted away.

Yet he still listened. The baron seemed interested in Mabel, speaking of her hair and eyes, even laughing when she refused to obey his command to come closer so he could touch her skin. On the edge of his vision, he saw the baron gesture to his most trusted servant, a man with equal values who thoroughly enjoyed his job. The steward stepped closer, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“Definitely her,” the baron said in a low tone. “The one two aisles over as well. And I believe there may be one or two more closer to the gate, but I’ll have to see them again. You know what to do about the key.”

“Yes, my liege,” the steward replied respectfully, a special glint in his eyes. “Consider it done. And the others?”

“I’m willing to take my chances at auction. While I would most certainly be disappointed by a failure to obtain them, the ones I mentioned will give me much more pleasure, I’m sure.” The baron smiled evilly. “Much more pleasure.”

The steward returned the smile. “I understand.”

With one last taunt to Mabel, the baron continued on his way, his people following. “Come, precious,” he called out to his newest gift. “Only a short time left before we return to our residence. Don’t fall behind.”

‘ _Dipper. My name is Dipper_ ,’ the boy said in the depths of his mind, just like he always did when the baron called him by that abomination of a pet name. And as always, his body had already emotionlessly started to obey the order before he could finish the rebellious thought. He couldn’t even make himself spare one last look for his sister.

* * * * * * * *

A couple of hours later, Dipper was perched on the edge of a silk upholstered ottoman next to the baron’s luxurious chair on the far side of the sitting room of the opulent residence. The baron himself was playing a variation of chess with another one of his servants, his steward having slipped out soon after their return. The servant had even won a game; Dipper was vaguely aware that the baron expected his servants to perform to the best of their abilities at all times, even when at play. The baron had laughed when he was forced to concede, then set up the board for another game.

Another session had finished by the time the steward returned. “It is finished,” the man announced, holding up a brass key topped with the shape of a triangle. Dipper gave the tiniest of shudders at the sight of it, even though it could only be seen in his peripheral vision.

The quiver went unnoticed; the baron had leaned forward to examine the key. “This will open the locks of both aisles?” he asked.

“Those and the two aisles beyond,” the steward replied. “Each key opens four aisles.”

“Excellent,” the baron said with a satisfied smile, relaxing into his chair once again. “I believe we will go out once more after dinner to be sure of my choices, then proceed with the rest of the plan come midnight,” he declared. “Place the key in your room until then. Any authorities won’t be allowed to search personal rooms should they decide to pay us a visit in the meantime, although they would be allowed to search you, especially when we are out on the streets. Then go to the kitchen and see that our meal’s preparation is begun.”

“Will we indulge in another round, my liege?” the servant seated across the board said respectfully as the steward returned from his room and continued on to the kitchen.

The baron considered it. “I believe we will,” he said finally. Then he turned to look at Dipper with a wicked smirk that matched the gleam in his eyes. “You may return to your room and relax until it is time to depart once again,” he said coolly. “If things go well you may have a meal when we come back.” He reached over and ran a languid finger along Dipper’s jawline. “Rest well, precious.” He pointed toward the door that led to the sleeping quarters after lightly touching the tip of the boy’s nose.

Dipper immediately rose and headed off in the direction he was told, repeating his mental mantra a few times as he went. The door to the sitting room closed quietly behind him. Upon hearing the latch catch he allowed himself the smallest of swallows before walking down the hall, his room at the far end next to the baron’s suite. But he paused when he came to the door; he knew when he exited that room again he would be going out amongst the slave cages again – and he would definitely be seeing Mabel. He wouldn’t be able to talk to her, to comfort her, to help her. He didn’t even know if he’d be able to look at her. But what would hurt him the most would be knowing why the baron wanted to see her: he wanted to make her one of his slaves, most likely doing to her what had been done to him.

A single tear actually welled up in each of his eyes at the thought, and the briefest wave of helplessness washed over him. But it left behind a determination Dipper hadn’t been sure he could ever feel again. He couldn’t let this happen to Mabel. He could _not_. He had to do something to free her from the slave cages, to let her find a way to escape the auction and the baron and anyone else that might want to take her and do horrible things to her.

An idea occurred to him then. The steward had a copy of the key that would open Mabel’s cage. They would be going out to visit the poor people who were waiting to be auctioned off. He would have an opportunity to give her the means of escape. He turned around with a purpose and looked at the door across from his – the steward’s. Fighting every ounce of his conditioning, he forced himself forward and into the room.

Mabel would not become like him.

* * * * * * * *

Mabel didn’t know what to do with herself after she managed to choke down the stale chunk of bread and bowl of thin slop her keepers called supper. She knew Grunkle Ford would be coming to buy her at the auction the next afternoon; she just had to make it until then. But she had been stared at and spoken to like she wasn’t worth more than some random box lot all day, and it had all battered at her sense of self. She was pretty sure she could start to understand some of the nastier sections of her history classes, not that she wanted any deeper level of comprehension.

The girl had chosen to sit in the middle of the cage, away from casual pokes and curious fingers, ever since that one blond guy with all the servants had thought he could demand she move over to him and let him do whatever it was he had planned on doing. Mabel may have been stuck in a cage, and people may have been treating her like livestock, but she wasn’t going to just roll over and _be_ a future slave. She simply plopped herself where she still was and ignored the world around her. The blond man had laughed; it had been an ominous sound, and it confirmed to her that he was not a good man at all. In fact, something about him totally creeped her out. She really hoped he didn’t bid on her tomorrow. Just the idea of the possibility of him getting his hands on her made her stomach churn.

She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there cross-legged, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands, when a commotion started at the entrance gate end of the walled-in cage section of the auction city. She sat up and looked in that direction, but it was a little while later when the source of the disturbance came into view from the opposite end of her row. It was the blond guy and all his people again. Mabel frowned darkly and almost turned her back to the dirt path with a loud huff. She stopped herself, however. It would only draw his attention, and that was the last thing in the world she wanted.

Instead, Mabel pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her chin resting on her kneecaps and her gaze firmly on the ground at the base of the cage wall in front of her. She wasn’t going to even give the guy the satisfaction of getting one of her patented death glares. No, she was going to sit there and ignore him, him and all his lackeys. It would be a minor victory, but it would be hers.

The girl gave a mental groan when the man stopped right next to her cage. He spoke in low tones to someone beside him – she refused to find out who – before patting the metal bars that trapped her. “You hold on tight, kitten,” the man practically purred. “I’ll be back for you soon. Very, very soon.”

Mabel closed her eyes and tried not to react beyond that. She was suddenly quite glad there was some kind of barrier between her and him. What scared her, though, was that this guy would find a way to make that not matter too much. How much money - or credits, whatever – did he have? Would Ford have enough? Did Ford know that there were people out there who would bid on her too?

She did her best to just focus on her breathing as she sent wicked thoughts his way to get him to leave. She imagined all the little annoying things she could do to make him go away, although she knew she probably shouldn’t do any of them while she was unable to get away herself. It was tempting, though. And the images helped her keep her spirits up.

But what really helped her mood was when the man gave one last wicked chuckle and started to lead his crowd down the aisle. He called out that there was another one to see before sundown, and the ones with him just murmured a bit and obediently trotted off behind him. As sad as she was for any of them that didn’t think they had a choice – and when she opened her eyes at the man’s declaration she thought she could see that some of them weren’t all that thrilled – there were enough that did and were apparently happy with the choice they’d made. Jerks. Just the kind of people that guy would want around him.

She blew out a deep breath before the last of them had gone by, glad to no longer be under their scrutiny. Or was she? One of their number was going slower than the rest, a boy wearing only a loincloth over a pair of leather undershorts. She only caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye; by the time she lifted her head to really look at him he had finally paused at the far corner of the cage, his back to her.

Wondering what in the world he was up to but worried she’d scare him off if she asked, Mabel noticed that his right hand was clenched in a fist and his body was quivering slightly. Was he angry? Something told her that wasn’t exactly what was going on: she saw him take a single, jerky step forward that gave the impression of some kind of inner struggle. He then took a deep breath, shakily extended his right arm into the cage through the bars, and after a long, almost heart-stopping moment opened his hand to allow something to fall to the ground amidst the dirty straw that passed for a bed. Once that was done, the quivering ceased, and the boy walked on like nothing had happened.

Mabel blinked in surprise then scrambled over to see what had been left for her. She rifled through the straw she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to lie on in the first place and came up with a triangle-topped brass key. Instinctually, she closed her hand around it to keep anyone else from seeing it and glanced over her shoulder at the door of the cage. A moment after that she pressed her face into the space between two of the bars, looking after her unexpected benefactor with wide eyes.

Who was that boy? Why would he sneak her a key to her cage (presuming that’s what it was for, and she figured it was a pretty safe presumption)? Why her and not somebody else? What did he have to gain by doing it? Her mind was nearly overwhelmed with questions as her eyes fixated on the boy’s mop of brown hair, in particular the distinctive cow lick that bounced as he walked away from her.

Wait, cow lick? At the top of a very familiar head of brown hair the exact matching shade to the hair she saw whenever she looked in a mirror, no less. And those noodle arms, and that specific gait…

Suddenly Mabel couldn’t breathe. The boy who had given her her best chance for escape was Dipper! But he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t given her any signal that he was there for her. Of course, she had been purposefully avoiding looking at the blond guy and all the people with him, so maybe he’d tried but hadn’t had a chance.

Another realization had Mabel breathing again, but shallowly in a mild panic. If the boy trailing around after the blond guy was Dipper, that meant the blond guy was Baron Kubek. And Baron Kubek was supposed to be really, really mean to the people he thought he owned. He had Dipper dressed in that skimpy little outfit – which was pretty mean considering his lack of muscles and chest hair – so did that mean he had been even worse up to this point? If so, what had he done?

Mabel watched Dipper get swallowed up into the baron’s crowd and felt her expression grow hard. She didn’t want to imagine what worse things Kubek might have done to her brother, but the fact was probably that they had been done. Dipper trailed behind the jerk quietly, and there was that struggle she saw him go through before he dropped the key for her. What had he done to Dipper to make him just do what he said? Whatever it was had Mabel so amazingly angry she found herself wanting to do very nasty things to the baron, nastier than just about anything else she’d thought of before. And considering what she’d recently been through with Bill and Weirdmageddon, that was saying something.

But she couldn’t think about that now. She had the key to her cage, a rough idea when the guards did their patrols, and a great uncle and brother to find once she was out. She needed to plan her escape, not her revenge. That would be difficult enough, she knew. So she returned to her spot in the center of the cage and sat down once again, this time to let herself focus on a much more practical getaway.

* * * * * * * *

Mabel’s intention had been to wait until true dark, then make her break right after the first patrol that went by. Unfortunately, her timing was still off; the sun didn’t set until quite late, making true dark fall right around the midway point between patrols. It was incredibly annoying.

She found herself looking around at the other cages as she waited for a guard to walk by. They weren’t all occupied – a fact which made her quite satisfied – but the ones that were seemed to be holding some miserable guests. Mabel hated seeing people be sad. With a sigh, she looked down at the key she held and wondered. There was no way to know if it would work on any other lock, but she knew she had to try. From there her thoughts turned to an alteration of her escape route. If things went well, she wouldn’t be the only one getting out that night.

Finally, the time she had been waiting for arrived. One of the guards strolled along the aisle, barely noting the occupied cages as he went overconfidently on his way. Mabel watched him walk to the end of the line and turn the corner, then grinned widely once he had completely disappeared from sight. She immediately unlocked her door and slipped out, not quite shutting it behind her to avoid the noise of it relatching. She gave one last look to be sure the guard wasn’t coming back and put her plan into action.

From there she was a quiet whirling dervish of activity. She swiftly moved to the cage next to her where a near-skeleton of a man lay on his bed of straw, back to the aisle. A quick check proved her hopes correct: the key worked. She gave the door a small yank to be sure and moved on to the next. She then went up one side and down the other, becoming amazingly efficient at unlocking the cages and shushing the people inside before going to the next one in a short amount of time.

When she reached the far end, she glanced back for a moment to make sure she’d been successful. She saw the doors starting to open and the prisoners tentatively stepping out and she knew she had. Fighting back a triumphant laugh, she ran off to start on the next aisle over.

Mabel only got faster and more efficient as she went up the second aisle and down the third. But it was when she reached the end of the third row and was about to turn the corner for the fourth that she heard the trouble coming from where she’d been. The freed prisoners had begun making noise as they jostled with each other on the way to escape if she understood the sounds reaching her ears. She dragged a frustrated hand down over her face. She should have seen that coming; it’s not like everyone had been in on the plan and had been convinced to work together for the greater good. Even if she thought that should have been obvious.

With an irritated sigh, Mabel continued on her way, realizing with a sad heart that this would be the last aisle she could help if she wanted a decent chance to get away herself. She’d always known she wasn’t going to be able to help everyone, but it still hurt to have her efforts cut off so soon.

She wasn’t quite as cautious as she ran down the fourth aisle, simply unlocking the doors and moving on without any warnings to keep quiet, or any checks at all to see if the cage was even occupied. It just didn’t matter anymore. Oddly enough, the last cages on either side were the length of three normal ones, so Mabel just shrugged once the doors were open and took off toward the wall that separated the prisoners’ quarter from the rest of the auction city.

The girl was just shy of the end of the rows of cages when a strong hand grabbed her upper right arm and brought her to a sudden halt. She managed to choke back a scream as she spun around to face her attacker. Anger immediately doused the fear, and she clenched her left hand into a fist as she took up a battle stance. She wasn’t going to give up without a fight. The risks Dipper took to give her the chance at escape deserved at least that.

The creature that held her seemed a bit surprised at Mabel’s fierce expression. A moment later, she chuckled. “I wish you no harm,” she whispered. “Only to speak, and quickly.”

Mabel’s self-preservation fog swiftly lifted at the soft words, and her eyes widened as she finally registered the appearance of the female in front of her. She was tall and lean, and had an athletic build. Her dark green eyes made for a piercing gaze – but that wasn’t what had shocked the younger girl. It was their shape, one that went with the pointed ears near the top of her head and the black fur that dusted her cheeks and the backs of her hands.

“You’re a cat woman!” Mabel whispered enthusiastically, only controlling her volume at the last second.

“I am Theria,” she said, amused and slightly surprised at the reaction. “I am of the Ailura, and I am in your debt. You have given me my freedom and thus you hold my life in your heart.” She placed an open hand over Mabel’s upper chest. “What is your name?”

“It’s Mabel, but you said… Your life?” Mabel asked, stunned, as she felt a tingly warmth radiate through her body. “But I… When my brother gave me the key, I couldn’t just open only my cage. I had to help whoever else I could. Dipper would have wanted that, too, I know it.”

Theria’s eyes softened as she released the girl’s arm. “You have family that waits for you, yet you risked everything to help others. Your heart is good, and my life is well placed. I and my tribe will never forget what you have done, and you will never want for anything if any of us are near.”

Mabel shook her head, blushing. “Oh, you don’t have to…”

Theria moved her hand from Mabel’s chest to place a finger to her lips. “My honor demands it. And now I will see you safely away. Come.” She led the girl toward the gate.

The two ladies heard a loud commotion from outside the wall when they arrived at their destination, causing them to tuck themselves away in the nearby shadows. “This is just getting to be a huge mess,” Mabel moaned quietly.

“It is just an obstacle. We will overcome it,” Theria replied, a bit distracted as she focused on listening. After a moment, she looked at her companion. “There is a man trying to gain entry with his people. The guards are refusing because of the disturbance.” She smirked.

“I guess a mess is a good thing then,” Mabel said with a grin. The expression quickly faded, however, as the voices outside got louder. “Sweet Sally…” she murmured, letting the words trail off as her eyes widened. “That’s the baron,” she breathed. “If he has his people with him, then that means that Dipper’s out there. Dipper’s _here_.” She swallowed and fully met the sharp green gaze watching her carefully.

“Dipper is your brother,” Theria stated more than asked. Her gaze grew sharper when Mabel nodded. “He gave you the means to save so many people?” Mabel nodded again. “But he is with a man who wishes to enslave those same people.”

Mabel sighed sadly. “I don’t know all the details, but I do know he was taken all kidnappy-style. And Kubek did something to him to make him follow orders. He was shaking when he dropped the key in my cage, like it was hard to do it.”

Theria shook her head. “I know of Kubek. I need no other explanation. You intend to take him back?”

Mabel’s expression grew determined. “You bet I do.”

“Then wait here one moment. I will see what must be done.” The feline woman slipped silently to the gate where Mabel lost sight of her.

It felt like forever, but it actually wasn’t all that long before Theria returned. “Kubek has distracted most of the guards,” she said once she was back at Mabel’s side. “Now, I can give you the time you need to recover your brother, but I must know you will follow my plan. Will you consent?”

Mabel nodded. “Well, sure,” she agreed. “I didn’t really have much of a plan for this part of my escape anyway. What do I have to do?”

“The guards have shown they fear me greatly, and I will use that to my advantage. When I do, you must move quickly from the gate to the shadows along the wall to the right. From there, you should cross the street, staying in the shadows, and make your way to the back of Kubek’s people. There should be an alley there, and from that position you should be able to find your brother and take him back. Once you have him, get away as quickly as you can, but remain out of sight in and amongst the buildings until things are quieter and appear clear.” Theria gave a little smile. “I am afraid I cannot help you beyond that. My escape must take a much different route that you would not be able to follow.”

“That’s all right,” Mabel assured her. “Once Dipper and I are away from all this, our great uncle Ford can get us out of here. We’ll be fine.” She grinned. “So when do we start?”

* * * * * * * *

Mabel was amazed at how well the start of the plan went. Theria leapt out from the gate at both the group of guards and Kubek’s people, and they all jumped back with a variety of screams. Because their focus was on the snarling cat woman, Mabel had easily slipped into the shadows and across the street, doing her best to be quiet as she jogged around the crowd Kubek insisted on surrounding himself with. She almost rolled her eyes at the sight before she realized that the strange habit meant she had a chance of grabbing Dipper out in the open – a much easier proposition than trying to break into wherever the baron was staying to get her brother.

The alley was right where she’d been told it would be. Mabel waited for another distracting lunge from Theria before dashing into it unseen, ducking behind a pile of bricks just inside the shadows of the space between a pair of buildings she was surprised didn’t back up to the wall she’d been held behind. That gap would make for a great escape route she was pleased to note. She just had to grab her brother.

Taking a deep breath, Mabel peeked around the side of the brick pile just as Kubek’s entourage backed up nervously to block half the entrance to the alley. She scanned the people in her range of vision; she could only hope Dipper wasn’t somewhere on the opposite side. And then she smiled – he wasn’t. He was standing just at the corner of the building the bricks were placed against, his gaze unfocused as the others jostled him around.

That last observation worried her, but she knew she couldn’t do anything about it until the two of them were somewhere safer. Theria had warned her he might not be all there, that Kubek “tried to steal the souls of those under his influence” – by force if it wasn’t given freely. But there was hope for Dipper, the cat woman had said quickly at the sight of Mabel’s stricken expression. Dipper had given her the key to freedom; Kubek had not taken everything. And if there was something left, he could be brought back. Mabel – and anyone else – would need to be gentle, but it could be done.

But first he needed to be taken away from Kubek. Mabel checked to see if anyone was paying attention to her brother; everyone was far more concerned with the threat Theria continued to present on their other side if the way they nearly trampled him with every scramble without even checking to see who or what they’d run into was any indication. There would be no better time.

Silently, Mabel darted out from her hiding place and went right for Dipper. She never paused as she grabbed his wrist and yanked him away just as quickly, tucking them both back behind the brick pile with Dipper in front of her, one hand over his mouth and the other wrapped tightly across his stomach, trapping his left arm against his side. She couldn’t chance that he would cry out or jerk away from her involuntarily; he was so stiff in her grasp that she was sure it was at least a passing thought if not part of a plan to break away and run off. Although he wasn’t struggling. He was merely so tense that his whole body was shaking, and she could feel his breath under her hand get short and ragged.

“Dipper, it’s me, Mabel,” she breathed into his ear, her heart breaking a little at the realization that he really wasn’t trying to fight to get free. He was just scared stiff. And he just got even more tense at the words. Did he not understand? “It’s Mabel, your sister,” she said a touch louder, her voice cracking to think he might not remember her. “Your twin sister. You know, the alpha twin.”

There was no reaction to the deliberate attempt to goad him into… something. Anything. Mabel sighed. “I’m going to let you go,” she whispered sadly. “I just… I just need you not to say anything and to not try to run away. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She slipped her arms away from him and shifted to stand at his side. She smiled when he didn’t make a sound or move away from her. “There. I didn’t hurt you, just like I promised. Are you okay?”

Her smiled faded when she realized Dipper had just about been hyperventilating, and was only then calming down. It disappeared completely as she watched that vacant look wash over his face again the more his breathing returned to normal and he totally relaxed. What was going on? “Dipper? Really, are you okay? I… We need to get going, to get away from here, before they catch Theria or us. Are you going to come with me?” No response.

Mabel took a deep breath and reminded herself that there was hope. Dipper had gotten her the key. There was still something inside him to bring back. Even if right now it looked like there wasn’t. “All right, we deal with this later. I can do that.” She grabbed his wrist again. “Come on, Dipper, we’re getting out of here. Just, please, try to keep up.” With that she started running for the gap she’d mentally marked as her escape route earlier, pulling her brother behind her. She was happy to note that after the first few steps of off-balance stumbling Dipper regained his feet and kept up like she’d asked. They were off.

She couldn’t be sure how much time had passed by the time she’d led them in and around buildings as she wove their way across town. All she knew was that she finally came across the mysterious remains of some kind of stone structure, and they made an awesome hiding place. She quickly got both Dipper and herself settled in a concealed little hollow that still allowed her to peek out from the crevices to see anyone approaching without being seen herself. She was actually quite proud; she knew she’d done well.

At least, she felt that way right up until she turned to look at Dipper. He sat in the place where she’d led him, his eyes staring at nothing in particular and his expression vacant. She wasn’t even completely sure he’d heard her before. It hurt.

Mabel sighed and sat down next to him, reaching into the top of the French braid she had her hair in to pull out a narrow, three-inch silver cylinder that had been hidden there. “Dipper?” she asked softly, rolling the device between her fingers and staring at it. “Are you feeling any better now that you’re away from that guy?” She sighed again at the lack of response then turned to gaze at him. “Can you at least look at me? Please?”

Slowly, like it was moving through molasses, Dipper raised his head slightly and turned it in her direction. His eyes even met hers, although they didn’t focus very much. But it was enough. Mabel smiled, feeling it widen into a grin when she saw a spark of life flash in those distant brown eyes at the change in her expression. “Thanks, bro-bro.” There was another flash.

Mabel looked down at the cylinder in her hand and pressed the button at the end of it. She held it up as a blue light flashed briefly and it vibrated for a moment. “This is a homing beacon,” she explained as she met Dipper’s eyes once again. “Grunkle Ford has the other half. Which means he should be on his way to find us and get us out of here right now!” She giggled and shrugged in the otherwise quiet pause, noticing that her brother actually did shoot a short glance at the small device. “I know it’ll probably still be a while before he gets here, but isn’t it great that he’s coming? Then we can finally get away from all this stuff, and we can concentrate on getting you back to being my favorite nerdy, know-it-all brother.” She stopped and thought about what she’d just said. “Well, you’re still _that_ , but I mean that we’re going to get you back to proving it to everybody again. And it will be awesome.”

She smiled at him for a moment more, then sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, the beacon now enclosed in her loose fist. But the brief, peaceful moment was dispelled by Dipper stiffening at the contact, a shiver running through him as Mabel’s braid brushed across his back. Mabel instantly sat up and stared at him wide-eyed.

“Did I hurt you? Did I touch something that hurts?” she asked in a slight panic. She then blinked when she saw that he had immediately relaxed as soon as she’d drawn away from him. “No, I guess you aren’t hurt, not on the outside anyway,” she murmured. Her face scrunched up in thought, then half a minute later she reached out with a hesitant hand and placed it gently on his back. He tensed up one more time.

“Why don’t you like it when I touch you?” she asked as she brought her hand back to her lap, and Dipper once again relaxed, this time followed by his gaze returning to its vacant state.

She had no answers. The lack of tactile connection – she wasn’t going to make Dipper feel uncomfortable, no matter how much she thought she could really use a hug about then – had her feeling cut off and alone, the idea reinforced by her brother’s nonverbal reaction to everything. Luckily she could tell the warmth and vibrations from the beacon were getting stronger; Ford would be there soon, and she would have his help and support. For now, she would make due and hold on.

* * * * * * * *

Ford had been subtly making his way toward the slave holding quarter when he first felt the vibration from the homing beacon in the pouch hidden under his shirt next to his skin. The sensation stopped him in his tracks. He could only think of two scenarios with a high enough probability to result in the beacon being activated: one of Mabel’s keepers had discovered it, knew what it was, and wanted to find out who had the other half, or Mabel had somehow gotten free during the disturbance that had inspired his current journey. He continued on, preparing mentally for the former while hoping desperately for the latter.

It didn’t take long for the man to realize that Mabel was not in the direction he was heading. He immediately did a one-eighty, his hope for his niece’s freedom growing as he thought she would most likely try to get as far away as she could from the place she’d been held. He moved faster at that point, still careful of the people he came across, but anxious to be reunited with the brave girl he held so dear. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one steering clear of the ruckus; the guards he ran across ignored him.

It was almost suspiciously quiet when he reached the opposite side of town, the near-constant quivering of the beacon telling him Mabel was close by. Ford remained wary, keeping to the shadows of the large buildings as he tried to guess where the crafty girl had hidden herself. He thought he was surrounded mostly by warehouses and other non-residential structures from the lack of foot traffic and windows – they would provide good cover if one could find a way inside. He just couldn’t be sure Mabel had the right set of skills to do that unobtrusively.

Ford was making his way carefully around yet another stone building in an attempt to get by a large pile of debris when the sound of shifting rocks and a tiny squeal put him on alert. His muscles tensed, ready for a confrontation, and his hand rested on the gun at his hip while his eyes darted around trying to discover the source of the noise before he was ambushed.

He was not successful.

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cried out as she crashed into the man’s side, her voice a bit strangled in a weak attempt to control her volume while her arms wrapped around his waist. “You’re here! You made it!”

“Mabel!” Ford yelped in breathy confusion, instinctually returning the embrace. “Where did you come from?”

“That pile of tumbled down stones,” Mabel answered, not bothering to gesture as she reveled in the hug. Ford was surprised at just how much of a warm feeling he got from that demonstration of her devotion. “I don’t know what it used to be, but it makes a really good hiding place now.”

“You did well, Mabel. You did very well,” Ford said as he finally let himself relax into the hug. “I’m so glad you could take advantage of whatever the disturbance was in the holding quarter to get free. I hated having to leave you there.”

Mabel pulled back slightly and gave him a smile. “I know you did, Grunkle Ford, but I’m okay.”

Ford returned the expression. “We should make our plans to get out of here. The holding quarter will only serve as a distraction for so long. We can use the time to get Dipper away from the baron, find a safe place to use the scanner, and open a portal to our next destination.”

He was surprised yet again by the excitement that flared up in his niece’s eyes. “Oh, right!” she said, then took off back toward the pile of rubble without another word.

“Mabel? I don’t think we have time for this. I’m sure I can replace anything you’ve forgotten in there,” Ford called after her.

“No, you can’t,” Mabel replied as she paused in front of a shadow that had to be a gap she’d used to get into an empty space inside. She grinned and disappeared.

Ford kept watch a touch nervously as he waited for Mabel’s return. The streets were still relatively quiet; his instincts told him there was no immediate danger, but he was well aware that could change in an instant. A glance in the direction of the holding quarter had him raising his eyebrows at the magical light now hovering over the area. Whatever the disturbance was, it was rather significant. Perhaps Mabel was even luckier than he’d originally thought to get away from there unscathed.

It wasn’t all that long before another light rattle of tumbling pebbles alerted Ford that his niece was on her way back. But if he thought he’d been surprised at her appearance before, it was nothing compared to what he experienced as she emerged from the pile of stone the second time. For this time, she wasn’t alone.

“Dipper?” he whispered when the boy stepped out into the starlight, being led by his sister. Ford’s eyes took him in as fast as they could, noting the lack of clothing and the vacant stare. Fear for his nephew began curling up in his core, certain memories rearing up in his mind’s eye at the sight.

“I found him, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel enthused, not noticing the older man’s reaction. “I got him back!”

“You most certainly did,” Ford agreed, glancing at her briefly before pushing his fear aside to feel joy in the boy’s presence and relative safety now that he was away from Baron Kubek. A traitorous voice in the back of his mind couldn’t keep from asking if the damage had already been done, however. He ignored it and stepped forward, meeting the younger twins halfway, never looking away from Dipper.

Mabel gave a little giggle and let go of Dipper’s hand when the three of them stopped moving. “It was totally lucky, but he was right outside the gate when I got out. I grabbed him and we ran. Of course, there’s a whole lot more to the story than that, but…” Her voice trailed off when she saw the tears in Ford’s eyes. “Aw, Grunkle Ford…” she said, her smile getting sentimental.

Ford blinked away the wetness. “I just can’t believe… You actually found him…” He just couldn’t seem to finish a thought. He took a deep breath and started to reach out as he released it. “Oh, Dipper…”

Mabel caught his hand before it made contact, causing him to jump slightly. “I’m sorry, Grunkle Ford, but Dipper doesn’t like being touched, except for taking him by the hand.” Her expression was a mix of apology and guilt as she let go of him. “I found that out the hard way. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge.”

“I see.” It was another blow, something else to make the fear grow stronger. He clenched his jaw for a moment then nodded. “I suppose we should get going then. We can work everything out once we’re safely away.”

“I think we should,” Mabel said softly, sorrow joining the mix of emotions on her expressive face.

Ford retrieved his devices from the pockets of his coat and began activating them, the scanner immediately coming to life and going to work. He could hear Mabel murmuring a simple explanation to Dipper, and although she received no response, her positive attitude kept him from giving in to despair. He couldn’t, not yet. Mabel wasn’t ready for that kind of dose of reality.

When he’d gotten the list he needed, Ford tucked the scanner away and worked on sorting through the results so the new portal would form and allow them to travel on to find the next member of the Zodiac. He’d only gotten through part of the list of coordinates when a gasp from Mabel had him looking up.

“You didn’t honestly believe that Baron Telane had forgotten about you, did you?” a new voice said from behind him.

“I will admit I was hoping to be gone before he noticed,” Ford said, looking back over his shoulder. There was a trio of men in familiar livery standing a distance behind him, all of them aiming energy pistols in their direction. Things were about to get complicated.

“That wasn’t likely, not when you practically flaunted yourself in front of him at the permit office,” the first man said, the other two grumbling under their breath.

Ford turned his head back around to look back at the portal device, knowing how dangerous it was but also knowing a portal was their best chance at a safe escape. “I wasn’t flaunting anything,” he refuted as he continued to examine the list of coordinates. “I didn’t even notice him in the crowd.”

The spokesman growled at the dismissive tone. “You expect me to believe that Baron Telane could be so easily overlooked? That his commanding presence could be so easily ignored?”

Ford had to fight back a laugh at the presumption and indignation, a task made no easier by the look Mabel gave her brother. Dipper gave a long, slow blink at the same time that sparked a tiny bit of hope for him. The scientist was disappointed that he had to push that aside for the moment; he would visit it later, however.

“I had something much more important on my mind,” Ford answered once he knew it could be done without losing his composure. “You’ll have to give him my regrets.” Ah, that one looked like it was the choice with the highest probability attached to it. He highlighted his selection.

“I’ll give him your charred and smoking corpse to gloat over!” the man snarled, pushed over the edge.

Ford heard the weapons charging and knew he had run out of time. He activated the DPC and moved to stand in front of the children. “I don’t think so,” he said arrogantly as the portal started to come to life.

What he had underestimated, however, was how little time these particular weapons needed to be able to fire. Apparently Baron Telane had finally invested in upgrades. Just as the stable hole between dimensions formed as a tiny pinprick the electric bolt-like shot flew past a dodging Ford and dissipated around the device he still held. He somehow managed not to drop the thing; even he wasn’t sure how he’d pulled it off.

“Go!” he cried to Mabel and Dipper. “Before they can get off another shot!”

“Come on, Dipper! Let’s go!” Mabel grabbed Dipper by the hand and jumped through the now window-sized gateway.

“Tell Telane I send my regards!” Ford quipped flippantly, then copied the action of his niece and nephew.

He could only hope the portal would close before they could be followed.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So many thanks to all of you who have been so very patient with me and my fickle muse! She's rediscovered her love of Real Ghostbusters, and has been focused on that - but this fic hasn't gone by the wayside by any means. I promise. And to reward you all for sticking with me, here's the next chapter! Enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!_

Ford had only taken a step and a half on the other side of the portal before the way the ground gave beneath his feet caused him to lose his balance and sprawl out face first. Sand. He’d landed in hot sand. Pushing himself to his feet, he saw Mabel and Dipper standing a few feet in front of him, his niece staring off to his right while his nephew wasn’t focusing on much of anything. But what really caught his attention was just how much sand surrounded them.

It was a massive desert, the dark tan sand only broken by a large natural wall of stone slightly to Ford’s left. As the wind picked up and swirled around him, Ford felt the stirrings of despair. This place wasn’t habitable. Not only was it not a place for the kids and himself to rest and recover – even if it was only for the night – but whoever had been brought here by the weirdness bubble would have only had a slim chance of survival at best. Unless there was something in the rocks he wasn’t aware of, this could not have ended well.

And if the circle was broken, how could the rest of the Zodiac get home?

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel shouted, dragging Ford away from his morbid thoughts. “Look at that!” She pointed in the direction she’d been staring, her words almost completely ripped away by the rising wind.

Ford’s eyes widened when he saw what the girl was referring to. Bearing down on them was what appeared to be a wall of churning sand, static electricity crackling across the nearly pitch black storm. They couldn’t stay there; they needed to move. It was a choice between trying to activate another portal when he wasn’t sure if the stray shot from Telane’s henchman had done any damage, and running for the rocks and hoping they’d be able to find shelter there. He knew which option had the better odds.

“Mabel!” Ford yelled back. “We have to run for the rocks! We have to find shelter! Take Dipper and go!”

“Give me my pack back!” she cried, heading in his direction, pulling Dipper behind her. “You’ll be able to move faster!” She gestured to the smaller pack strapped to his own.

Ford shook his head. “We don’t have time! And you’ll have enough to deal with by guiding your brother! I’ll be fine!”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Dipper can run! He doesn’t need me! But you can use less weight!”

Ford shook his head again. “Just go, Mabel! We’re wasting time!” He pointed toward the rocks standing tall just far enough away to make covering the distance a challenge.

“Fine! But we’re going to be talking about this later, mister!” She gave her brother’s arm a little tug. “Come on, Dipper! We have to run! Keep up with me!” She headed off, Dipper a half step behind her.

Ford shifted the weight on his back as he watched the kids keep their feet, then looked back to try to judge when the sandstorm would overcome them. It was going to be close. He ran off after his charges.

The three of them scrambled amongst the rocks when they reached them, Ford quickly discovering the opening of a cave and leading the kids into it. Thankfully, it wasn’t shallow, and in fact led further into the formation than had been expected. The storm would most likely not be able to touch them, although there was still a concern that the entrance would end up buried. They could leave from where they were, however, so it wouldn’t be a problem.

A weight was lifted off of Ford’s shoulders once he was sure he and the kids were safe from the raging sandstorm outside, but there was still enough guilt and responsibility remaining to keep his thoughts churning. One look at Dipper in his loincloth assured that. He could only imagine what would have happened to the boy had they taken any more time.

The wind suddenly howled around the cave mouth, the sound echoing to make it louder, even as far back as Ford has already led them. “We should go deeper if we can,” he said to the children, noting the looks of discomfort they both wore. “Are you claustrophobic?”

“You mean scared of small, tight places?” Mabel asked. She shook her head. “No, it’s just really loud. It kind of hurts my ears.”

“And Dipper?” Ford gestured at his nephew, whose eyebrows were furrowed while he frowned ever so slightly.

“He’s fine with caves and stuff like that as far as I’ve ever known,” Mabel answered.

Ford nodded. “Then let’s move further into the cavern. When we get far enough, I have a flameless light source we can use.”

The scientist paused as he felt a small hand take one of his. He looked down to see Mabel smiling at him, Dipper’s hand in her other one. “There’s not much light left,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Ford smiled back and gave her hand a squeeze. “Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * *

When he first heard the voices, he thought he was imagining things. He was well aware he was alone wherever it was he’d ended up, so to hear speech that wasn’t his own echoing out from the back of the cave he regularly took shelter in was quite a shock. At the same time, he felt excitement grow; he wasn’t alone any more. And maybe whoever was here would know more than he did about what was going on.

He slowly and carefully made his way to the back of the cave, hiding himself in the inky black shadows near the slit in the stone wall that separated his cave from the tunnel that led to the outside. It was so easy to miss, so easy to assume it was just part of the uneven texture of the surrounding rocks, but he had to be sure. He didn’t want to scare anyone away by his sudden appearance, and he didn’t want to accidentally offer himself up to less-than-friendly people. He would listen; he would learn. Then he would decide what to do next.

“So why was it the middle of the night in the last dimension, but only late afternoon here?” a young girl asked, her bright voice bringing a smile to his face.

“Dimensions are like planets in the solar system,” a gruff, masculine voice answered a bit distractedly over the sound of rustling cloth and clicking metal. “Days on Earth are approximately twenty-four hours long, and depending on the season we can reasonably guess at the time based on the sun’s position in the sky – and that can be done at any point on the planet. Yet due to differing orbits and rotational speeds, other planets such as Venus or Mars can’t be expected to follow the same pattern. In our case, it’s easiest to say that different dimensions operate on different schedules, and thus the time of day won’t always match up when we travel.” There was a pause as something was pulled out of some kind of storage. “Here’s what I was looking for,” the man’s voice said with a note of triumph. A moment later, he could see light coming from the other side. It made him glad he’d hidden himself.

“You know, you could have just said that last part,” the girl said with humor laced through her words.

The man chuckled. “I suppose I could have, at that.” He sighed. “And now to the essentials. Come closer and let me check you for injuries. I don’t trust that those slavers treated you all that well.”

The mention of slavers and injuries in relation to the source of that sweet, happy voice filled him with a sudden anger he didn’t understand. He blinked in surprise at the strong reaction, wondering if he knew these people even if he didn’t recognize the voices. Should he recognize them?

“Aw, Grunkle Ford, I’m fine. Sure, they pushed me around a few times, and they really weren’t all that gentle when they put me in my cage, but it wasn’t anything that actually _hurt_ me,” the girl said dismissively. “I’ve got more scratches from my climb up the cliff.”

“Humor me, Mabel,” the man, this Grunkle Ford, said in a depreciating tone. “Allow a worried old man to fuss over his niece.”

“And you don’t need to feel guilty,” Mabel declared as light footsteps echoed briefly followed by the flop of a body hitting the stone floor. He guessed she’d moved over as requested and sat down beside Grunkle Ford. “You falling into the sharp bushes was an accident, and you were right there after I turned on the homing beacon. I grabbed Dipper, and we all got out of there. Everything worked out so far.”

Things were quiet for a minute or two, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Mabel had more serious injuries than she thought, ones that required more focus. His heart clenched at the thought.

A deep breath was taken. “Perhaps it has,” Grunkle Ford said finally, “but I can’t help but wish I’d been able to do things differently and prevent you and Dipper from going through everything.”

It was Mabel’s turn to sigh. “You feel that way because you love us, which is understandable because we’re great. But you know things can’t be perfect all the time. We just have to do the best we can when stuff happens – which is exactly what we’re all doing. So _please_ stop giving yourself such a hard time, Grunkle Ford. Please.”

There was another rustle of cloth, this one louder than the first, and a long moment of silence. He wondered what was going on. He had a feeling it was something good, though, something that would help them both. And that thought made him smile a little.

“You don’t need to check Dipper, by the way,” Mabel said eventually after another few footsteps. “He’s fine. I took care of that while we were waiting for you. There wasn’t much else _to_ do.”

“And you gave me a hard time for wanting to do the same?” Grunkle Ford asked, a smile in his voice.

“Are we going to rest here, or are we going to just keep going to the next dimension?” Mabel asked, deliberately ignoring the question. He silently chuckled at the action. Felt like something _he’d_ do.

There were more metal on metal sounds. “I need to examine the DPC and make sure there was no damage done by that energy blast,” Grunkle Ford said after a brief pause. “If there is, activating it could cause us to be shifted without our knowledge to a dimension other than what was programmed, and our task of reuniting the members of the Zodiac would be made near-impossible.”

Mabel gasped. “That would be bad,” she declared.

“It would most certainly be that,” Grunkle Ford agreed.

“Are you sure you have enough light?” Mabel asked after another moment of silence disturbed only by the continuing metallic sounds. “Dipper and I can hold flashlights for you.”

“Thank you for the generous offer, Mabel, but unfortunately it won’t be necessary.” Grunkle Ford huffed in annoyance. (How did he know that was the right emotion?) “I saw a pair of wires that are melted, and while I have replacements, their positions are such that I’m going to need to take apart the casing to give myself the room I need to repair the DPC with the precision the task requires. I can’t afford any mistakes.”

Mabel coughed suddenly. “And that’s a problem?” she asked once her throat was clear.

Grunkle Ford sighed. “As you can tell, sand is still entering the cavern, even if it’s just a light dusting periodically. While that’s no threat to us, it would be devastating to the electronics in my devices should even a few grains end up where they don’t belong.”

“Does that mean we’re stuck here?” Mabel whispered harshly, fear nearly strangling her words into nothingness. He felt his heart clench again, just _knowing_ this girl shouldn’t be scared of anything ever.

“No, no, not that,” Grunkle Ford said quickly. “The DPC will still create a portal. The wires that have been compromised are one that allows information to be transferred from the scanner and one that helps regulate power flow.”

“What does that mean?”

He thought that was a great question. He’d been thinking it himself.

Grunkle Ford snorted lightly, a sound tinged with amusement aimed mostly at himself (again, how did he _know_ that?). “Let me try that explanation again. I must remember that you weren’t present for the device’s construction, so of course you wouldn’t simply know what I’m speaking of. And I would say that about anyone else, Dipper and Fiddleford included.”

There was a pause where he hoped a smile was being shared.

Mabel giggled. “That’s okay, Grunkle Ford. I’d bet Dipper or McGucket would have actually got it, though. You were saying?”

“The wire that lets the coordinates transfer from the scanner to the DPC is melted,” Grunkle Ford said calmly, in the tone of a teacher in front of his students.

“Actually, that one I got,” Mabel interrupted. “It’s the power one that I’m not sure of.”

“Oh, of course,” Grunkle Ford replied with a note of surprise and pride. “Well, the second wire controls how much energy from the power source is used at any given time. With that control gone, any use of the DPC could accidentally drain the battery, so to say.” There was a short pause. “I hope you know I don’t believe you’re unintelligent,” the man said contritely. “I have a tendency to over-explain when I’m questioned.”

Mabel giggled again. “I already knew that,” she said teasingly. “Dipper does the same thing until I tell him to stop.”

A loud gust of wind and the sound of raining sand cut off anything Grunkle Ford might have said in response. There was apparently a bit of a scramble, then three different coughs echoed around the chamber. He realized a beat later that was the first evidence he’d heard that there really were three people on the other side of the divide.

“All right, apparently I was wrong,” Grunkle Ford said wryly after a few more coughs. “That was most certainly not just a dusting of sand.”

“That means we’re in trouble, doesn’t it?” Mabel asked, her voice coming from a place closer to the gap in the stone wall. They must have shifted that way to get away from the sand he could still hear coming down from the ceiling.

“Not quite yet,” Grunkle Ford replied. “We’ll have to open a portal out of here.”

He was surprised by the statement at first, but then he remembered the other man saying his machine could still do that. He just couldn’t use a different machine to decide where it would open out _to_. And as long as wherever that was didn’t have any threats immediately waiting for them, it should end up being okay.

And then it hit him, a little give and take about Mabel getting her backpack back _finally_ not really registering in his ears. They were going to leave. Mabel with her sweet voice and perky attitude and Grunkle Ford with his somehow familiar gruff voice that he understood the hidden nuances of for whatever reason… they were going to be gone, and he would be all alone.

That hadn’t mattered before. He had woken up alone, not even with memories for company, and he had been fine. But then these people go and show up and go about their business, not even knowing he’s there, and he knew he’d be devastatingly lonely when they were gone. What was so special about them that he could make a connection like that? It didn’t make any sense.

After another moment he blinked in realization: it didn’t matter that it didn’t make sense right then. He only had a handful or two of stray images that had drifted into his consciousness, images he clung to fiercely. If these people were connected to those images or to him, that would explain everything. No matter what, however, they would assure he wasn’t alone.

But he couldn’t bring himself to step out into their light and reveal himself to them. He could accept that he felt a connection to the newcomers, that was easy. Taking a chance on them rejecting him? That was harder. For that he wanted more understanding of the why behind it all, and a little more assurance what he felt was real.

A brighter light coming from the other side of the stone wall brought him out of his thoughts. He took a step back and over to be able to peek around the edge of the hidden gap, and his eyes widened at the sight of a wide, pulsating disc floating vertically in the air on the far side of the space. There were three silhouettes standing with their backs to him in front of it, a man holding hands with a child on either side of him.

“Be sure not to let go of my hands,” Grunkle Ford said. “I want to assure that we end up in the same dimension together in case a glitch has occurred that I’m unaware of.”

“We won’t,” Mabel said from Grunkle Ford’s left side. She leaned forward to look at the barely-dressed boy on the other side of the man. “Right, Dipper? We won’t let go.”

“We’ll step through together on the count of three,” Grunkle Ford said after a brief pause. “One… two… three.”

He watched with wide eyes as the three of them took a step forward and disappeared into the light. They were gone. He was alone. And with that realization a weight settled onto him that he was afraid wouldn’t take very long to crush him entirely.

Time passed, he couldn’t say how much. Somehow he knew he had let the chance of a lifetime just walk away. He let it leave without…

Wait. Maybe he didn’t. The man and the kids were gone – but the portal they’d disappeared into wasn’t. Which was weird, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He took a few deep breaths, glanced one last time at the place that was all he’d known since he’d woken up with no memories, and hurried over to the disc of light, only hesitating for a fraction of a second before walking determinedly through into a new unknown.

* * * * * * * *

Even after exiting the portal and finding he was both at the destination he’d intended and still holding the hands of his niece and nephew, Ford wasn’t able to really relax until the three of them had reached the clearing near the pond he always used when he traveled to that dimension. It was an unpopulated place, a place that was _safe_ … or at least as safe as anywhere else he’d managed to find during his journey through the multiverse. There were animal predators to consider, after all.

It didn’t take long to set up camp. “How long are we going to stay here?” Mabel asked once they were through. “Will it take long to fix the portal maker thingie?”

Ford shook his head. “No, not long.”

“Oh.” Mabel sighed, her shoulders drooping. “I’ll just refill our canteens while you get to work, then.”

“Mabel, wait,” Ford said as she reached out to open her bag, causing her to pause with her hand in mid-air. The resigned weariness of her voice reminded him that she didn’t know his plans. “I was thinking of staying here for two or three days to give us a chance to rest and recover. Aside from repairing the DPC, we could all use a hot meal and some uninterrupted sleep. And we should figure out what we’re going to do for Dipper.” He gestured at the boy, who stood at the edge of the camp site and stared vacantly off in the direction they’d come from. His thin, bare shoulders were sagging as badly as his sister’s, with a bit of shaking thrown in for good measure.

Mabel gave Dipper a quick once-over then smiled at Ford. “Oh, good,” she said, relieved. “I really think I only have enough energy to eat a little something before I fall asleep standing up. The next time we pick up supplies I should see if I can find the ingredients for a batch of Mabel Juice.”

Ford couldn’t help but chuckle, missing the brief shudder that went through Dipper at Mabel’s declaration. “It should be interesting to see what you come up with,” the older man said with a lingering smile. “However, for now you won’t need to eat or sleep standing up. You both can relax and eat a little something, then lie down and get some sleep.” He gestured at the sun in the sky, showing it was late morning there. “It may be a bit difficult, but…”

Mabel gestured dismissively, cutting him off. “We’ll be fine. I think we’re both tired enough to conk right out as soon as we hit our blankets.” She dug into her bag and pulled out some food. “Hey, Dipper. Come on over and sit down. I have some dried meat and fruit we can munch on before we crash.” She smiled as her brother did as she requested. “We’ve both had one heck of a day, huh?” she said as she handed over his share. “Go ahead and eat and we’ll deal with everything else when we get up later.”

Ford watched as the two of them silently ate, Dipper only having hesitated for a moment before slowly following his sister’s lead. By the time they were done, he was eating at a more normal pace, although his gaze remained somewhat unfocused. The scientist wasn’t sure what to do next for the boy; he wasn’t even sure how much of his nephew was left to do anything for. The thought that there might not be enough made his heart hurt.

“Let’s lay down and get some rest,” Mabel said once she saw that they were both finished. “I know I could definitely use it!” She waited until her brother had done that, Dipper lying on his right side facing her empty blanket, then looked at Ford. “Wake us up if you need us,” she told him. “And be sure to get some rest yourself!”

“Just go to sleep, Mabel,” Ford said with a fond smile. “I’ll rest once the DPC is repaired, I promise.”

“You better, mister,” she replied firmly, then smiled and went to her blankets. She laid on her side facing Dipper and stared at him for a long, quiet moment, her smile slowly fading to a more wistful expression. “Can I hold your hand?” she finally whispered to her brother. “Please?”

Ford looked up from the device he had pulled out from an inner pocket of his coat at the heartbreaking question and turned his head just in time to see Mabel smile and quickly slip into slumber. Her hand was holding Dipper’s in the space between them.

He finally managed to turn away with the tiniest of smiles once Dipper took a deep breath and released it, falling asleep soon after. He felt a little bit more positive after seeing the exchange, but memories of other slaves that had been broken like Dipper flashed through his mind. He had to stay calm and rational about it; he knew Mabel wouldn’t. With a sigh, he returned to the work of repairing the DPC.

But even as he pushed his emotions aside to concentrate on the technical task in front of him, that tiny flower of hope continued to bloom in his heart.

* * * * * * * *

“Since we’re going to be here a while, is there anywhere we can wash up?” Mabel asked later that day after taking a not-so-discreet sniff of her armpit. She and Dipper had gotten up about midafternoon, followed shortly by a light meal and a promise of a hot supper from Ford. It wasn’t long after that Mabel asked her question.

“There’s a pond at the end of that path,” Ford said, pointing at a trail that led away from their camp site and disappeared over a small hill. “It’s not far.”

“Oh, good,” Mabel said, satisfied. She looked at her brother. “Well, Dipper, looks like it’s bath time.” She opened her bag and started pulling out a variety of things. “Grunkle Ford, were you looking through my stuff?” she asked as she worked. “I thought I had everything organized differently.”

The girl looked over in time to see the man blush slightly. “I’m afraid I did,” he admitted. “I thought it best to hide your grappling hook and crossbow to prevent them from being stolen.”

Mabel paused in her task for a moment. “Oh. Well. That makes sense then.” She pulled out a few more things. “Ah ha!” she exclaimed. “This is what I was looking for! Dipper, come here.” She waited until he had done so before letting her wide smile turn impish. “Now put out your arms; you can carry your own stuff.”

Mabel’s expression softened slightly when she saw Dipper blink rapidly for a moment before holding out his arms as requested. She had a feeling he was a little overwhelmed as well as confused. There were no regrets over the way she was going about things, however.

“Okay, so, here are your shoes.” Mabel plopped the worn tennies onto his forearms. “And your socks.” She tucked the pair into one of the shoes. “Your shorts. I’d recommend keeping the leather underwear you already have on, but I’d ditch the long dangly leather strips.” The grey shorts were slapped on top of the shoes. “And your T-shirt.” The faded red fabric provided a splash of color as it landed on top of the growing pile. “Oh, yes, your ever-trusty, always-useful vest.” She laughed as she tossed the blue puffy vest atop the rest.

She drew up sharply when she looked back into the bag. “Oh, yeah,” she whispered. “Can’t forget this.” She looked back at Dipper with a big, tender smile. “Talk about iconic.” She pulled out the blue and white pine tree cap. “Your hat, Dipper. You can’t forget your hat.” She gently topped the pile in her brother’s arms with the signature headgear.

Mabel waited for a long moment, watching to see if there would be any reaction. She wasn’t disappointed. Dipper blinked a few times and turned his head the tiniest bit. But what really got her to grin was the way she could see his eyes focus somewhat on the familiar baseball cap. He then blinked a few more times and released a small breath in a barely audible puff. She was satisfied.

Smiling happily, Mabel put most of her things back in her bag, only leaving out a pair of rags, a bar of soap, and a couple of towels. She scooped the items up when she was finished and headed for the path to the pond. “Come on, Dipper,” she said as she went. “There’s some water calling our names.” She smiled even wider when a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed Dipper was following along.

“Whoa,” Mabel murmured when the two of them reached their destination. “It’s like a baby lake!”

The pond was definitely bigger than expected, although it was still a pond. The surrounding forest thinned out somewhat as it came closer to the water – aside from a few random clearings like the one Mabel and Dipper were standing in – but it was still thick enough to discourage walking along the shore. The picture it created made the girl wish she’d remembered the camera she’d left in her bag. She really wanted to capture a photo of the scene.

Mabel gave herself another moment to appreciate the view then returned to the business at hand. “I’m going to let you go first, bro-bro,” she said, separating the towels and rags and placing the soap on top of one of the tiny piles. She pointed to the other one. “Those are for me to use after you’re finished, so do your best not to get them wet, okay? I know how sloppy you can be.” She laughed when Dipper’s head came up slightly. “Yeah, I said it! You know it’s true. Anyway, I’m going to trust you can take care of washing yourself up. Use the rag with the soap. Oh, and, um, you’ll have to use the soap for your hair, too. Grunkle Ford said we haven’t been to a place that sells the more advanced hygiene products, but we’ll definitely grab some when we do.” She scowled slightly. “It totally sucks, by the way, especially with as much hair as I have.” She sighed. “But yeah, you know what to do. When you’re done just dry off with the towel and put your old clothes on. You’ll feel better when you do, I just know it.”

The girl froze when she finished her to-do list for her brother and moved over to look him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dipper. I just talked to you like you were stupid, like you wouldn’t know what to do if I just told you to take a bath. I don’t think you’re stupid, I promise. It’s just… It’s so hard not to lead you around and give you orders when you…” She cut herself off, biting her lower lip for a second. “I don’t know what the baron had to do to you to make you act this way, but I know the real you is still in there. We’ll help bring you back.”

Mabel was surprised when Dipper slowly closed his eyes. What surprised her more was that when he opened them again he truly met her gaze with a completely focused one of his own. It was sharp and intense. Unfortunately, it was also brief, ending with a shudder when the corners of his mouth twitched upward for a moment, followed by his shoulders sagging and his focus fading.

“Thank you, Dipper,” Mabel whispered with a tiny smile. She took a deep breath and released it. “I suppose I better let you take your bath now before you wear yourself out any more,” she said at a more normal volume. “Just wait for me here when you’re done; I have to go back and figure out what I’m going to wear after my own bath. And if you could wait until I’m out of sight to actually get naked, I would really appreciate it.” She grinned and gave an exaggerated shudder then stepped back in the direction they’d originally come from. “I’ll see you when I get back,” she said, then walked away up the small hill and out of sight.

* * * * * * * *

Ford had watched the younger twins leave for the pond with mixed feelings. He was glad to have Dipper back with them and away from Baron Kubek – he would always be eternally grateful for that – but he was also scared that Mabel was getting her hopes far too high for her brother’s potential recovery, perhaps even seeing positive signs that weren’t there. It radiated from her when she talked to him, when she waited from him to respond to her, and even when she simply watched him as he sat staring off into space. He couldn’t say he didn’t understand the impulse, however. He only wished to save her from the pain and disappointment she would most likely eventually feel.

He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that asked, “And what if she’s _right_?”

Mabel surprised him a short time later by coming back to their camp alone. “Hey, Grunkle Ford. Are you almost done fixing your machine?” She pointed at the portal generator next to him as she went to her bag.

“What? Oh, no, I’ve finished the repairs. I’m now doing some thorough diagnostics to make sure there isn’t any further damage that was overlooked in my earlier haste.”

“Making sure there’s nothing else wrong, got it,” Mabel said a beat later with a grin. “Sounds good to me.” She pulled her original outfit out of the bag and set it aside.

“Are you changing?”

“No, not yet. The sun looks like it’s going to be out for a while, so I figured I’d wash these out and let them dry while I clean myself up. Two birds, one stone.” She shrugged and reached behind her head to start undoing her braid. “Gotta remember my brush,” she muttered as her fingers started running into snarls and tangles.

Ford watched her for a moment, his brows furrowing when he realized she was in no rush. “Mabel, don’t you think you should be watching over your brother? In his current state…”

Mabel gave him a confused look that made his words trail off. “I’m pretty sure he can still take a bath, Grunkle Ford. It’s pretty basic. Besides, I am not going to hang out while Dipper splashes around naked. Ew!” She cringed in disgust at the thought.

Ford sighed. “Then perhaps I should…”

“Leave him alone,” Mabel finished for him, interrupting him before he could do more than set down the notebook he’d been writing in. “Dipper would be just as weirded out by you hanging around while he doesn’t have any clothes on as he would if it were me. You should trust him. He’ll be fine.” She smiled at him, some confusion still lingering in her eyes.

“Mabel, I don’t think you truly understand Dipper’s condition,” Ford said in return. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to have this discussion, but apparently that wasn’t going to be an option. “I’ve seen other slaves that had been broken like Dipper has been broken, and while I didn’t know before now who had been the source of such maltreatment, I am quite aware that they are completely lost without guidance. There is no autonomy, no sense of self-determination, no free will to allow these slaves to do things for themselves on their own. They require instructions for just about anything that isn’t an involuntary bodily function such as breathing. You can understand now why I’m concerned that Dipper’s been left alone.”

“No, actually I don’t,” Mabel snapped, hurt flaring up in her rich brown gaze as the frown that had grown during Ford’s little lecture became a full-blown scowl. “Dipper’s not that bad. Dipper is still in there! He needs our help to come back, sure, but he’s there! Why don’t you want to believe that? Why can’t you trust me to know that? He’s my twin brother!” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought to keep them from falling.

“That’s exactly why,” Ford said calmly, even though he was anything but on the inside. “Your emotions are very likely to blind you to the truth of the situation.”

Mabel’s scowl deepened. “Well, I think your guilty emotions are blinding you! You feel so bad about what happened to Dipper and that you couldn’t be there to stop it that you can’t see anything good! You’re too scared!” She planted her hands on her hips aggressively.

Ford sighed, ignoring the mental flinch he felt in response to the girl’s accusation. “Mabel, we haven’t seen much of anything that would suggest your theory is true. You know that.”

Mabel pointed toward the pond. “But something just happened! I was apologizing for talking to him like he’s stupid – because he’s not – and he closed his eyes. Then when he opened them again he looked right at me, right in the eyes! And he was really seeing me, totally focused and just… there, you know what I mean? He even tried to smile, but I think that was too much. He shuddered like he’d just used up the last of his energy and zoned out again. But he showed he was really there!”

Ford blinked, startled by the information. He’d been prepared to dismantle whatever story Mabel told him by using cold, hard logic and what facts he could remember from his previous encounters with the broken slaves and their owners. But this tale was different. There was no way Mabel could misinterpret a direct gaze such as she’d described, and as much as she wanted Ford’s acceptance of her stance on the issue, he really didn’t think she’d resort to lies to get it. He still had his reservations, though. A large part of him – a part that could still see those other slaves so clearly – couldn’t let the one incident, strong as it was, totally sway him. He needed more.

“That does sound impressive,” he admitted. “I can’t say that Dipper is positively on the mend just based on that experience, however. I need more evidence.” He gave his niece an almost apologetic half-smile.

“Well, I don’t need anything else,” Mabel replied defiantly, although a lot of the bite was gone. “Dipper already gave me the best evidence ever when he gave me the key to get out of my cage so I could escape.”

“Wait, what?” Ford sputtered, his eyes widening as his back went ramrod straight. “What do you mean he gave you the key?” He paused for a second. “You had a key to get out of your cage?”

Mabel smiled triumphantly. “And Dipper gave it to me. So that’s how I know he’s still there and we can get him back. Theria said we just have to be gentle with him.”

Ford closed his eyes and raised one of his hands, index finger extended. “I think we’ve reached the point in this conversation where you need to tell me just how you got out of the holding quarter and what happened during your escape.” He took a deep breath and reopened his eyes, his hand falling back into his lap.

Mabel nodded. “I can do that.”

The young woman proceeded to tell her tale, covering the time from her capture to the second time the baron and his entourage came by. “I was determined to just ignore them all, every last one of them. But then I noticed someone going a lot slower out of the corner of my eye, and I was all like, ‘What the heck?’. So I looked back over my shoulder and saw a boy wearing a loincloth standing at the corner of the cage. I couldn’t see his face or anything, but I could tell he was shaking with his fist clenched. The next thing I knew he stuck his arm between the bars, and after even more shaking he opened his hand and dropped something into some straw. As soon as he did it the shaking stopped and he walked away, just like he didn’t do anything a second ago. And when I hurried over I saw he’d dropped a key. It had to be to the cage. I went over to the bars and looked after him – and that’s when I recognized his cowlick, and his walk, and his noodle arms. It was Dipper!”

“But you didn’t see his face,” Ford refuted.

“Oh, come on,” Mabel drawled. “Are you trying to tell me you wouldn’t recognize Grunkle Stan from behind? Dipper’s my twin. I _know_ him.”

“I’ll allow for that,” Ford conceded. “What happened next?”

Mabel continued her story. She described everything that happened up to the time when Theria grabbed her arm to give her thanks. “And I’m so glad she did. She was the one who ended up having a plan to get out of the holding quarter.”

Ford frowned in thought. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you say she was a cat woman?”

Mabel nodded. “Yep! She said she was an allura or something like that. She had the prettiest black fur and green eyes.”

Ford’s eyes widened in shock. “Do you mean she was of the Ailura?”

“Yeah, that’s it!” she confirmed. “Does that mean you know about Theria’s cat people?”

“You could say that,” Ford said. “They are a legendary race of feline lycanthropes, fiercely protective and thought to be masters of ancient forms of magical lore. They were supposed to be near extinction if not gone altogether. Apparently that last is not the case.”

“Nope! Theria was definitely alive. And she said something about her tribe, too, when she said that I’d never want for anything if one of them was around. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Pretty cool indeed,” Ford agreed, surprised all over again. “The fact that one of the Ailura has declared that her life lies with your heart…” He took a deep breath and released it, giving his head a little shake as he did so.

Mabel shrugged. “I thought it was a pretty nice way to say thanks. But when I recognized the baron’s voice outside and realized Dipper had to be there, too, she got a little confused. She wondered why someone who gave me a key that I used to help so many people would be with a guy who was so bad. I told her he didn’t want to do it, and that Kubek had to have done something to him. Theria knew about Kubek, Grunkle Ford; she knows how bad a guy he is. But she said that because Dipper gave me the key, there was still enough of him left to save, that he could come back. We just needed to be gentle with him.”

Ford nodded slowly. “Perhaps I have been a bit hasty. I’ll have to watch Dipper more closely.” He couldn’t help but return the smile Mabel gave him at the statement. “Go ahead and tell me the rest of your story. I want to know how you saved Dipper and made it to that ruined building where I found you.”

Mabel was more than happy to do so.

* * * * * * * *

An outside observer who came upon the pond where Dipper Pines bathed would be hard pressed to say what was going through the boy’s mind as he methodically used the soap and rag to clean his body. In fact, the same observer might be tempted to say he was thinking nothing at all. His gaze was unfocused and his face was blank; even the random animal cry produced no reaction.

What the observer wouldn’t know – couldn’t know – was that a small part of his mind was working overtime. That part was perhaps not quite as small as it had been a couple of days prior; seeing Mabel and finding out about Kubek’s interest in her had taken care of that. Now he was struggling to find himself again, to break free from the conditioning he’d been put through. He had a promise to keep.

Dipper’s first step was to concentrate on his senses, increasing his perception and cutting through the mental fog Kubek had encouraged. He let himself feel the sun-warmed water surround his body from the chest down and the sun itself above that. He listened to the water lapping against him and the wind blowing by his ears as a gentle breeze drifted across the pond. He watched the sunlight sparkle on the water and the contrast of the dark brown rag against his pale white skin as he washed himself mechanically. He tasted the clean and clear taste of the water that ran down his face and into the corners of his mouth followed by the bitter taste of the soap he rinsed from his hair. He pushed past the feeling of being overwhelmed by the numerous sensations and reveled in them all, claiming them all as his own in a way he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to do ever again.

Fighting against his conditioning like that took its toll, however. Dipper found himself mentally tired again – like he’d been after making himself meet Mabel’s gaze and focus to make her feel better, knowing she only wanted to help him, to reach him – so instead of pushing himself too far he let himself drift and recharge, counting on muscle memory and years of repetition to take him through finishing his bath. The hated feeling of mental fog crept in on him again, and time slipped away.

When he’d recharged enough to be truly aware of his surroundings again, Dipper found himself rinsing off the last of the soap and preparing to exit the pond to dry himself. He decided to drift along a little longer, his conditioning to follow orders combined with Mabel’s detailed “suggestions” serving him well. The rough texture of the towel brought him back a bit when he started rubbing it over his wet skin, however. It felt good to re-establish an anchor to reality, small though it was. It was something to work with, a chance to make it something more. He would not waste it.

Dipper couldn’t help but stare down at the pile of clothing Mabel had given him once he’d put his leather undergarment back on. Those were _his_ clothes. They belonged to _him_. They were meant for his comfort, not to show him off to a cruel and sadistic master. The sight of them created a very real surge of emotion, one of joy and a bit of victory, and he decided to let himself drift somewhat on that wave in a different way than he had before, reveling in the positive feelings and the deliberate choice he’d managed to make.

It was when he was just about finished dressing, right after he’d pulled on his puffy blue vest, that Dipper heard rustling in the trees and tall bushes that surrounded the clearing he was standing in. He gave a mental scream when his only physical reaction was to pause in his task with only his eyebrows somewhat raised. He couldn’t even seem to get himself to focus, although he did manage to turn toward the sound. A frisson of fear tickled the back of his brain; he’d have to glory in the tiny victory later if he was able.

A moment later, a figure stumbled out of the undergrowth and had Dipper blinking in a bit of confusion as he drew himself up short. The man wore a long khaki trench coat with patches on the elbows over a red turtleneck sweater. There was a plain black buckled bandolier lying diagonally across his chest. He wore black pants and heavy, mud-splattered boots. There were no gloves, but the glasses he wore had a small crack in the left lens.

Dipper couldn’t get his features to express the bewilderment he was feeling deep inside – wasn’t Grunkle Ford supposed to be back at their camp working on his portal machine? – but he did blink furiously for a moment. And then he remembered the switch that had tricked Bill. His eyes widened and focused somewhat, an instinctual cry nearly choking him when he couldn’t get his vocal cords to cooperate.

“Oh, wow, um, yeah,” the man said awkwardly, apparently getting over his own surprise. “So, uh, I guess that was you I heard splashing around in the water earlier.” He gave a brief chuckle and reached back with one hand to scratch the back of his head. “I wondered what it was.”

He didn’t show it, but the lack of recognition was like a blow to the gut for Dipper. He blinked a few times, not sure if he was keeping tears at bay or just releasing whatever emotions he could the only way he knew how at the moment. He was kind of hoping for the former.

“Cat must have your tongue, huh?” the man asked after a moment, his arm returning to his side. “I didn’t hear you say anything back in the cave, either.” Dipper blinked again in surprise as the man went on. “Although the way Mabel talked about you and waited for a second after the couple of times she asked you a question, I’m gonna guess that hasn’t always been the case.” He smiled when Dipper just blinked some more. “I’ve had a bunch of time to think about what I overheard back there. I’m still trying to figure out why I needed to follow you through Grunkle Ford’s portal.”

The surprises that kept being thrown at him made it relatively effortless for Dipper to stay present and focused on the situation, even if he still couldn’t quite get his facial expressions or voice to play along. Grunkle Stan had been in the cave with them in the last dimension? There must have been some kind of turn or passageway hidden in the shadows at the back of the space. It wasn’t like Ford or Mabel had done a close examination to see if it extended any further. There had been no need; they were out of reach of the wicked sandstorm that had driven them into the cave in the first place.

Stan shaking his head brought Dipper’s thoughts away from his musings. “But something tells me that’s not the most important thing right now. I think I wanna know why you’re not talking.” The older man’s eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna guess something happened to you, something bad and something recent. Am I right?”

Dipper wanted to answer. Well, what he really wanted was to run over to the man and throw his arms around his waist, the action miraculously making all of his memories fall back into place so he’d return the hug fiercely and make everything all right and back to the way it was supposed to be. A glance at the memory gun as Ford had fired it had shown the boy what was happening, and he was still so afraid that his world was permanently turned upside down, even without his current condition taken into consideration. Thinking of which, while trying to answer Stan’s question, Dipper only blinked rapidly. It was such a let-down.

“Huh. That cat just doesn’t want to let go, does it?” Stan said thoughtfully, watching Dipper’s face carefully. “But I think you want it to. So why wouldn’t you be able to talk? Hmm.”

There was a short pause while Stan considered it. Dipper couldn’t help but be reminded of what the man had said in the attic during the zombie incident: “I’m not an idiot, Dipper.” The boy had never thought anything of the kind – deliberately ignorant and stubborn, yes, but not stupid. But the honest calculating look on Stan’s face made Dipper realize how much of a mask his great uncle normally wore. Without any of the baggage of his past, Stan’s intelligence was shining through with nothing to hide or filter it.

“Well, I’ve already said I think something bad happened to you,” Stan said, interrupting Dipper’s train of thought. “Mabel sounds a little lost when she talks to you, so I’m gonna guess she doesn’t know what it was.” He paused and narrowed his eyes again. “You were all alone when it happened.” He paused one more time. “No, when it was _done_ to you. Someone _did_ something to you. The couple of times I’ve managed to catch sight of you, you weren’t wearing anything but a leather loincloth. Now you have real clothes on. You look a lot more comfortable, too.” He chuckled when Dipper blinked at that. “It’s a subtle thing, kid. Trust me.”

Stan grew serious again. “I’ve watched you do whatever Mabel tells you to do, so I’m going to guess you were told not to talk. Am I right? Go ahead and answer me.”

Even with the gentle tone that was used, the instruction was enough to somewhat loosen the hold Dipper’s conditioning had on him. With only a slight hesitation, the boy gave a shaky nod.

“Hmm, still no voice, huh? I can work with this.” Stan narrowed his eyes slightly. “I’m going to ask some more questions and I want you to answer them. Will that work?”

Dipper nodded again, this time the action coming a little easier.

“I think I know the answer to this already, but I’ll give it a shot anyway. Was the thing done to you done on purpose?”

Dipper swallowed slightly and gave another nod.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Stan frowned and shook his head. “Someone’s gotta be some kind of real jerk to do this to a kid of all people. Do they really think they’re that far above everyone else?”

This time Dipper nodded firmly without an ounce of hesitation.

Stan laughed. “I see someone’s not much of a fan, not that I blame you. I bet you’d have some choice words if you could talk right now.” He drew himself up short. “Wait a second. _Can_ you talk? I mean, are you still able to?”

Dipper blinked in a bit of surprise, then nodded after a beat of consideration. It had been some time since the last time he’d made any noise at all, but he was pretty sure everything still worked.

“Huh, interesting.” Stan thought for a moment. “You looked like you wanted to say something when you got over the shock of me stumbling out of the bushes. Why don’t you go ahead and say whatever it was you were going to say?”

Dipper hadn’t been expecting _that_ request. His eyes widened and he blinked for a long moment. But just before Stan could either give up or repeat the question, Dipper took a deep breath to prepare himself and hoped for the best.

“Grunkle Stan!” he blurted, his voice wispy and scratchy and not very loud. Although he was pleased to note it didn’t break.

It was Stan’s turn to be surprised. Dipper didn’t know what the man had been expecting, but apparently it wasn’t that. “You… you know me,” Stan said in awe. Then his thick brows furrowed. “You know me?” he repeated as a question.

Dipper nodded eagerly.

“Whoa,” Stan muttered, his head tilting slightly to the side as he verbally started to work some things out. “You called me Grunkle Stan, and Mabel called the other guy Grunkle Ford. So ‘grunkle’ is some kind of title or something. So, Stan and Ford.” He looked over at Dipper. “Is that right?”

Dipper nodded again.

“Okay, that’s something. I don’t know what that something _is_ , but it’s something.” Stan took a couple of steadying breaths before continuing. “Since you know me, maybe you can help me.” He paused and swallowed nervously. “Do you… _want_ to help me?”

Dipper’s eyes widened at the blatant insecurity in Stan’s tone, something that had never been quite so obvious before. He nodded quickly, hoping something of his love for his great uncle could be seen on his face.

“Okay,” Stan said, relieved. “Okay, that’s… that’s good. That’s great.” He took another deep breath and released it. “Thanks.” He smiled, an expression small but genuine.

Dipper blinked furiously, this time sure he was keeping at least a few tears at bay. The desire to hug the man tightly was back with a vengeance, and his body was just as uncooperative as it had been the first time, much to his everlasting frustration.

“So, I found this in one of the pockets of my jacket,” Stan said as he reached into one of the inner pockets. He pulled out an old photograph and held it out for Dipper to see. “Do you recognize it?”

Dipper shifted his gaze to the picture, noting the faded colors, water stains, and slightly tattered edges. Considering how old it looked, he was impressed by how good a shape it was in. Unfortunately, he’d never seen it before. He shook his head slowly.

“Oh,” Stan said, disappointed. “I, uh, guess it would probably be from before your time.” He hesitated slightly before continuing. “Do you think you might know who those two kids are? There’s something about them…”

Dipper concentrated harder on the photo as Stan’s words trailed off, this time really seeing the two shirtless boys standing on top of a badly damaged boat. They looked familiar, yet he couldn’t quite place them…

If Dipper had more autonomy over his actions, he would have slapped an open palm over his face. The picture had been in Ford’s coat pocket. It was quite old. The boat’s name was the _Stan o’ War_. The two boys looked just about identical aside from the glasses, a missing tooth, and – he looked a little closer to do a quick count – six fingers. Who the kids were was so obvious.

Dipper nodded, somewhat glad he wasn’t able to show his frustration with himself as it would probably be misinterpreted.

“You do know them?” Stan asked, surprised. “Who are they?”

Dipper closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was only one way he could answer that question. He pointed at the boy with the glasses. “Stanford.” He pointed at the boy with the missing tooth and looked up at the man holding the picture. “Stanley.”

Stan blinked as Dipper let his arm fall back to his side. “Stanley,” the man repeated in a somewhat stunned whisper. “That’s… me, isn’t it?”

Dipper nodded.

Stan finally broke eye contact with the boy and let his gaze drop down to the photo as he pulled it in closer to his body. “That’s why there’s something about them,” he murmured in an even quieter whisper.

Dipper watched as Stan’s eyes examined every detail of the photograph he held, the man obviously lost in thought. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his great uncle’s mind, what images he was seeing, what connections he was trying to make. The boy supposed there was something positive to be considered: even with the heavy use of the memory gun, Stan’s memories might still be there somewhere. It would make sense; McGucket’s mind had been just about completely broken by the overuse of the device he’d invented, but with time and some prompting his memories came back. There was definitely hope to be had.

Finally, Stan brought his head back up with a start. “Sorry about that,” he said with a little embarrassed smile. “Just trying to… figure out a few things.” He gave a short laugh, then gestured to the hat resting on the ground next to Dipper’s feet. “You can… go ahead and finish getting dressed. I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

Dipper blinked a few times, inwardly frowning at how lost and distracted Stan sounded. A beat later, he bent over to grab his cap, scooping it up with his right hand and planting it on his head in one smooth motion. Half a beat after that, he flicked the brim back up so he could see properly. The normal routine made a little of his tension fade, and he would have smiled if he’d been able.

When the hat cleared his eyes, Dipper refocused on Stan… and mentally drew up short. The older man was looking in his direction, but it was as though he wasn’t actually being seen. Stan’s breathing was short and shallow, and his expression was blank yet tinged with a little bit of fear around the edges. What was going on?

A moment later, Stan blinked furiously, his gaze really seeing Dipper once again. As soon as it did, his eyes widened and he took a couple of hurried steps back, the touch of fear on his features growing. Then he tensed, his retreat halting, and took a deep breath and released it. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry. I just have to… There’s so much… I just don’t…” He took another step back. “I have to go. I have to go now. I have to… I’m not going too far. I’ll be back. It’s just… I’m sorry, Dipper.” With that, Stan slipped back into the brush with a surprising lack of noise.

Dipper stared at the spot where his great uncle had disappeared from sight, shaken up by the sudden adverse reaction to him. What had he done? Did the way he put on his hat spook Stan somehow? That action seemed to be the tipping point. He didn’t understand _how_ that could have made things spiral downward so suddenly, but he couldn’t deny what he’d just witnessed. And the idea that he’d just hurt Stan, however inadvertently, twisted his insides painfully.

Dipper lost more and more focus as he mentally retreated to lick his wounds. He could only hope he got a chance to make up for whatever it was he’d done wrong. He wanted that more than anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I am totally breaking my rule for myself by starting to post a multi-chapter story before I'm completely finished writing it. But it's begging to get out there, and I really want to get people's reactions, and... and...
> 
> *sigh* Okay, I'm trying to push my muse to keep this story going. To be fair, she *wants* to work on this one. I just have so many other ideas bubbling around that want to get written that the fact that I know where this one is going and how it should end (in approximate terms - there are always surprises waiting for me as I go) lets her get complacent. Here's hoping this is the motivation she needs.
> 
> Anyway, I love feedback! All kinds! Feel free to drop me some!


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